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The British Artists Series. 

Large post Svo, in special bindings, 'vith 90/(7 100 
Illustrations, Ts. 6d. net each. 

Sir Edward Burne-Jones, Bart. 


Ninth Edition. 

Frederic, Lord Leighton, P.R.A. 


Fifth Edition. 

Dante Gabriel Rossetti. 


The English Pre-Raphaelite Painters. 

Their Associates and Successors. 


Third Edition. 

Thomas Gainsborough. 



Sir Joshua Reynolds. 





J. M. W. Turner 


W. L. Wyllie, A.R.A 

George Bell and Sons 


?3^ 3/ 



WHEN asked by Messrs. Bell to write "The Life 
of Turner" for their Series of " British Artists," I 
at first refused, for my ideas flow but slowly, and I have 
not the pen of a ready writer. Moreover, the only time 
I can spare for literary work is after the light has failed 
for painting. On being again pressed I agreed to under- 
take the task, mainly influenced by my admiration for 
the work of the inimitable poet-painter who has been 
my study and delight since boyhood. 

The first thing to be done was to read all the books 
on the subject. To my consternation I soon found that 
at least seven lives of Turner had already been pub- 
lished. Later, in my search among the sketch-books 
'owed away in the basement of the National Gallery, 
1 met a gentleman engaged on yet another exhaustive 
Turner biography. 

What chance has my little book against so many by 
professional writers? How can I expect to put down 
anything that has not been better said before? 

My only hope is that, being a painter, I may look at 
Turner's life and work from a point of view different 
from that of a literary man. Gilbert Hamerton, it is 
true, did draw a little, but his books were very much 



better than his pictures. An artist should be better able 
to distinguish and note the influences and beauties, the 
difficulties and limitations of another artist's work, than 
a critic or a teller of tales. 

I have tried to describe the masterpieces of Turner 
as they appear to a fellow painter travelling, however 
remotely, along the same road. 

The biographical facts are mostly gleaned from that 
confused tangle of oft-told anecdote and exaggerated 
description compiled by Walter Thornbury in 1861. I 
have sorted and arranged these scattered scraps of his- 
tory in chronological order to the best of my ability. 
The task was not an easy one, but night after night 
as I went slowly through the trials and triumphs of 
Turner, the uncouth old wizard, with his rough manners 
and tender heart, somehow became more and more real 
to me, until at last he seemed a friend that I had known 
all my life. 

If I can only paint the man and his works for my 
reader as clearly as they stand before me, my labour of 
love will not have been in vain. 





Portsmouth Frontispiece 

Newcastle 72 

Ulysses deriding Polyphemus 80 

The "Fighting Temeraire," tugged to her last 
berth to be broken up, 1838 118 


Portrait of Turner . 


St. Mary's, Redcliffe (18 14) 


Marine Study 


Studies of a Shipwreck, No. i, {In the Text) 

• 19 

Do. Do. No. 2. „ 


Do. Do. No. 3. „ 


Do. Do. No. 4. „ 


Durham Cathedral 


Stonyhurst .... 


• 30 

Calais Pier (1803) 


A Shipwreck (1805) . 


Study — The Pilot Boat 

• 38 

Holy Island Cathedral . 


Morpeth (1809) .... 


Greenwich (1811) 


Petworth Park (18 10) 


Coast of Yorkshire (1811) 





Chichester Canal 52 

Oil Sketch — Devonshire 54 

Frosty Morning (1813) 56 

Saint Gothard (18 15) 58 

Crossing the Brook (1815) 60 

La Grande Chartreuse (1816) 60 

Dido building Carthage (181 5) .... 62 

The Felucca (1819) 62 

Rome from the Vatican (1820) 64 

Rome: Basilica of Constantine and Colisseum 

(1826) 66 

Bay OF Baiae (1823) 68 

Carew Castle, Pembroke (1824) .... 70 

Fort Pitt, Chatham (1827) 72 

Bolton Abbey (1826) 74 

Cowes, Isle of Wight (1827 to 1838) ... 76 

Malvern Abbey and Gate (1827 to 1838) ... 78 

TivoLi (1830) 80 

Caligula's Palace (1831) 84 

Sketch for a classic picture 86 

Stonehenge (1827 TO 1838) 88 

NoRHAM Castle 88 

Landing of William of Orange (1832) . . . 90 

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (Italy, 1832) . . 92 

Orleans (1833) 92 

Rouen Cathedral (1833) 94 

The Ducal Palace and Canal (1833) ... 96 

Santa Maria della Salute (Venice, 1835) . . 98 

Cologne Cathedral (1834) 100 

Bellinzona 102 

coblentz 104 

Windermere, Westmoreland (1838) . . • .106 
Original Sketch for Dudley Castle . . .108 
Lausanne . .110 


Castle of St. Angelo (1834) .... 

Modern Italy (1838) 

RiALTO (1840) 

Vessels in a Breeze 

St. Mark's, the Doge's Palace and Mint, Venice 


Fall of the Tees, Yorkshire (182 7- 1838) . 

Crypt, Canterbury 

Burial OF Wilkie (1842) 

Snowstorm (1842) 

Mer de Glace, Chamonix 

Rain, Steam, and Speed (1844) .... 
Fishing Boats in a stiff Breeze off the Coast 
Turner's Palette 











IN the year 1775 a barber lived in a dark little shop, 
No. 26, Maiden Lane, standing on the left of Hand 
Court, which lies close to the south-west corner of Covent 
Garden. There was a gloomy, low archway, with an iron 
gate, and coming out of the sunlight a stranger would 
have to stand a moment in the dim light before he could 
see the narrow door to the left which led into the hair- 
dresser's shop. There was a window gay with both bob 
and cauliflower wigs, the name over the door was Turner. 
Mr. Turner was a cheerful little man, spare and mus- 
cular, with small blue eyes, a hook nose, a projecting 
chin, and a fresh, healthy complexion. He talked fast 
with a rather transatlantic twang, but always had a smile 
upon his face. The barber had come to London in early 
life from South Molton, in Devonshire, and had married 
a lady named Mallord or Marshall, who lived in the 
village of Islington, The barber's wife had pale blue eyes, 
an aquiline nose, and a slight fall to her lower lip. Her 
hair was well frizzed, and she wore a cap, with large 
flappers. Report said the little woman had a terrible 
temper and led her husband a sad life. She held herself 
very erect, and her aspect was rather masculine. 



Dr,Shand,author of "Gallops in the Antipodes," claims 
Mrs. Turner as first cousin to his grandmother, so we 
may suppose that she came from a rather superior class. 

On Saint George's Day, the 23rd of April, a boy was 
born to this worthy couple, and on the 14th of May the 
child was baptised in the parish church of St. Paul, 
Covent Garden, and given the name of Joseph Mallord 
William Turner. The surroundings were not calculated, 
one would say, to breed and foster a great genius. The 
house was dark and small, the windows long and low, the 
narrow stairs were steep and winding, the rooms low- 
pitched and confined, and if we are to believe Mr. 
Duroveray, the barber lived most of his time in the 
cellar under his shop. The district round about was 
theatrical, and these were the days of the great David 
Garrick. There was also the studio of a society of artists 
opposite, in what had once been " the Cider Cellar." 
Maiden Lane had seen better days, and men of note had 
lived in it. Archbishop Sancroft, in the days when he 
was Dean of York ; Andrew Marvell, on a poor second 
floor, and Voltaire also spent three years at the sign of 
the " White Perruke." 

Leaving the lane, and looking out at the London of 
that day, one cannot say that the moment was propitious 
for the appearance of the most splendid painter of land- 
scape that the world has seen. Portrait art was at its 
highest pitch. Reynolds was working in Leicester Square, 
and Gainsborough, who had left Bath the year before, 
had taken a house in Pall Mall. Both held lev(fes where 
the rank and fashion met, the beauties in powdered 


toupees, hoops, high-heeled shoes, the men in short pig- 
tails and striped silk knee breeches. West was paint- 
ing classical subjects for King George III, and Wilson 
was neglected by all except Paul Sandby, the fashion- 
able drawing master. Hogarth had been dead eleven 

Except for portraiture, English Art was either with- 
out life, insipid or classic, or a monstrous and indelicate 
caricature. The so-called humorous mezzotints which 
have come down to us show what wretched stuff our 
forefathers were content to gaze at in the shop windows, 
or bring home for the amusement of their families. 
Utterly without drawing or proportion, light and shade, 
or perspective, these hideous representations of the vices 
and follies of the time, often obscene, never suggesting a 
graceful thought or a beautiful line, bear witness to the 
coarseness of taste in 1775. 

Turning to literature, Richardson, Sterne, Gray, 
Smollett, and Goldsmith were dead ; but Dr. Johnson, 
Burke, Sheridan, Thomson, and Cowper, were writing; 
Robert Burns was just growing up at Alloway, and 
Walter Scott about four years old. 

Captain Cook was homeward bound, having been away 
three years on his wonderful voyage. Napoleon was seven 
years old, and Wellington six, Talleyrand twenty-one, 
Catherine of Russia and Frederick the Great were en- 
gaged in the partition of Poland. 

The English government of that day had treated the 
colonies of America in a very high-handed and tyran- 
nical fashion and four days before the birth of Turner 



a British force, marching to seize some arms and powder, 
was attacked, and thus began the unfortunate and need- 
less war, which lost us the fairest parts of the new world, 
and the sturdy Anglo-Saxon settlers, who would have 
been loyal to the old country had they only been dealt 
with fairly. 

There is a story of a visit paid by Turner when about 
five years old to a house in Carburton Street, where lived 
a silversmith with a taste for art, who pried about and 
bought drawings cheap. The boy went with his father, 
who called to curl Mr. Tompkinson's hair. Whilst the 
frizzing and powdering proceeded, a rampant lion em- 
blazoned on a silver salver attracted the child's fancy, 
and, when at home once more in Maiden Lane, he took 
pencil and paper, and drew from memory the very lion. 
A son of Stothard remembers that his father in early life 
went to the shop to get his hair cut, and the old man 
remarked to him in conversation, " My son, sir, is going 
to be a painter." A year or two later we hear that small 
water-colour drawings, copied by the boy from Sandby's, 
used to hang round the entrance door, ticketed at prices 
varying from one to three shillings. Years afterwards, 
Mr. Trimmer and Turner were looking over some prints. 
Turner took up one of them, a mezzotint of a Vander- 
veld, an upright, a ship running before the wind, and 
said with emotion, " Ah, that made me a painter! " 

In 1785 the boy was sent to a day school kept by a 
Mr. John White, near the " Three Pigeons," at Brentford 
Butts. There were fifty boys and ten girls. He boarded 
with an uncle of his mother's, a butcher, called Marshall. 


An old schoolfellow tells how young Turner drew birds 
and flowers from the windows. Many of these early 
sketches, says Bell, were taken by stealth. Afterwards 
he went to the Soho Academy, and studied under a 
Mr. Palice, a floral drawing master. 

At thirteen he was short and thickset, his face hand- 
some, but with large features of a Jewish type, clear 
gray-blue eyes and arched eyebrows; a boy careless of 
dress, but sturdy and determined. 

His father now sent William to a third school, kept 
by a Mr. Coleman at Margate, and the journey was 
made in a hoy, a bluff-bowed cutter-rigged craft, with a 
long bowsprit and heavy main boom. One can fancy the 
joy of this trip to such a boy. The Pool crowded with 
countless colliers, Indiamen, and barges; the Royal 
Dockyards of Deptford and Woolwich, where the new 
line of battleships stood building on the slips; Greenwich 
Hospital and Park, with picturesque pensioners sitting 
in the sun ; the marshy flats on which the malefactors 
hung in chains; then the winding river spreading out 
into the yellow sandbanks and choppy waters of the 
Queen's channel; and, lastly, the open sea, with the 
chalk cliffs of Thanet shining clear and bright in the 
pure air. 

Turner was not a mere home-bred boy, knowing 
nothing of the water, for he had often been boating and 
sketching on the Thames with his friend Girtin, With 
what a quick eye he must have noted the rippling waves, 
the changing lights playing on the ever-moving land- 
scape, the pale blue hills, which showed up so faintly on 


the horizon, slowly taking shape and colour as the stout 
old packet worked its way down the crowded waterway 
— everything new and wonderfully strange. 

Thornbury speaks of this as a blundering, miserable 
journey; but to Turner it must have been unalloyed 
bliss. Margate was then a quiet little seaside village ; and 
here the boy met many pleasant people, and to the very 
end of his life, he always had an affection for the white 
cliffs and broad sands of this bright little port. 

As time went on the genius began to turn a penny. 
There was a rage for illustrated topographical works, 
and these soon gave artists employment far more con- 
genial than the insolent patronage that had been meted 
out in this age of artifice and conventionality. There 
seems to have been some work in colouring engravings. 
The two boys, Turner and Girtin, went often on the 
river, or out into the fields towards Hampstead. The 
country was quite close to Maiden Lane. There were 
haystacks in Osnaburg Street, and in the New Road 
turnstiles and meadows. Where Harley Street now is 
Whitefield preached in the fields, and there was a farm 
behind Russell Street. 

Turner also paid visits to Bristol, and stayed with a 
Mr. Harraway, an old friend of his father's, a great fish- 
monger and glue boiler. Many of the drawings he made 
and gave to his host are still extant. 

He sketched Clifton many times, and there is a view 
of Oxford of about the same date. There is also a por- 
trait of himself painted during one of the visits to Mr. 
Harraway. The face is said to be " weakly drawn, simple, 


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and boyish; the long, luxuriant, curling hair streams 
down upon his shoulders and frilled jacket; and the 
nostrils and mouth are delicately traced with careful- 
ness, indeed, that amounts to timidity." (Thornbury.) 

This little portrait, in its black-wood frame, used to 
belong to Ruskin. It represents a boy of fifteen. He 
painted the two Harraway children and also his friend 

He is known to have attended a school in St. Mar- 
tin's Lane, where the Academician, Paul Sandby, taught 
drawing. Soon the clever boy busied himself up in 
his bedroom colouring prints for a printseller. He was 
also employed in touching up amateurs' drawings, and 
adding skies and backgrounds to architects' designs. To 
Mr. Thomas Malton, in Long Acre, he was indebted for 
his knowledge of perspective, and in after life Turner 
always spoke of his master with hearty commenda- 

Mr. Duroveray possessed a drawing after the manner 
of Sandby, signed " W. Turner," which he bought from 
the window in Maiden Lane. Others of the pale wash 
imitations of the same artist, were purchased by Mr. 
Crowle to adorn the splendid illustrated copy of Pen- 
nant's " London," in seventeen volumes^ now in the print- 
room of the British Museum. 

Porden, an architect, who in after years built the 
Brighton Pavilion for the Prince Regent, also gave work 
to the young artist, who painted gravel walks, blue skies, 
grass tufts, and patches of dock round the Corinthian 
mansions. At last Porden came to Hand Court, propos- 



ing to take young Turner as an apprentice without a 
premium ; but the old barber, who saw that money was 
coming in from his son's earnings, refused the generous 

Dr. Munro, mad-doctor to George III, was also at- 
tracted by the drawings in the barber's window, and 
though one would hardly call the prices munificent, still 
the lad was earning a living, and doing credit to his 

The father now arranged with Mr. Hardwick, an archi- 
tect, that the boy should go to his office, and much of 
the work he then did survives. In a sketch of Wanstead 
Church, built by his master, we are told the sky is finely 
treated. Hardwick also had some drawings of the same 
date of Isleworth and Lambeth, with the river and 

About 1789 Turner became a student of the Royal 
Academy. As a proof of fitness he had to submit a 
drawing of a Greek statue in chalk, and was then ad- 
mitted as a probationer to make three more drawings 
within the walls of Somerset House — another Greek 
figure; an outline of the same, showing all the muscles; 
and last, a skeleton in the same attitude as the chalk 

These, accepted by his judges, entitled him to a 
"bone" or ticket of admission to the schools, good for 
seven years and marked with his name. No doubt 
Turner stippled, and rubbed out, and altered, and worried 
at the impossible renderings of the calm and classic 
features of Discobolus and Germanicus, and, listening to 


the noises in the streets outside, watched the clouds fly- 
ing across the narrow slit of blue sky to be seen from 
Somerset House, wishing himself miles away, out on 
the breezy hill-top, or the glistening river, just as thou- 
sands of Academy students have done ever since. No 
doubt the work was tiresome and monotonous, as it is 
to all of us; but there is not the least justification for 
Ruskin's remarks on the teaching of the Academy 
schools: "It taught Turner nothing, not even the one 
thing it might have done — the mechanical process of 
safe oil painting, safe vehicles and permanent colours. 
Turner from the beginning was led into constrained, 
unnatural error. Diligently debarred from every ordinary 
help to success, the one thing which the Academy ought 
to have taught him (barring the simple and safe use of 
oil colour) it never taught him; but it carefully repressed 
his perceptions of truth, his capacities of invention, and 
his tendencies of choice. For him it was impossible 
to do right but in a spirit of defiance; and the first 
condition of his progress in learning was the power to 

In spite of Ruskin there can be no question but that 
working from the antique must have been a great help 
to Turner at this time of his life. The work he did for 
architects must also have taught him a great deal, and 
later on he showed how well he had learned the lesson. 
The end of the eighteenth century was, as I have before 
remarked, a most depressing time as far as taste was 
concerned. It was quite impossible for Turner to rise at 
once above his surroundings. Ruskin has written pages 



in abuse of this age of darkness, lamenting that Turner 
should have been surrounded by all the classic influences 
which made him the man we know and reverence. To 
suppose that such a genius could have risen without 
teaching and hard work is absurd. Turner learned all 
that his age had to teach him, and then went on to 
better things. It is no use now our trying to fancy what 
he might have been had his impulses been turned to the 
" Gothic fields of imagination." 

Once when Sir Joshua Reynolds was lecturing to a 
great crowd in Somerset House, the floor suddenly gave 
way causing a dreadful panic. Sir Joshua alone re- 
mained unmoved. When asked what were his thoughts 
at that terrible moment, his reply was, " I was thinking 
that if we all perished, the art of England would have 
been thrown back five hundred years." He little thought 
that Turner, the young student standing beside him, 
would have been the greatest loss of all. 

About this period Turner was allowed to copy two of 
Reynolds's wonderful portraits. Perhaps he might have 
turned towards the one branch of the arts which was 
really alive and flourishing at this time, had it not been 
for the death of the Great Master, who, one day in July, 
whilst painting a portrait of Lady Beauchamp, found 
his eyes beginning to fail. Putting down his pallet and 
brushes he said, " I know that all things on earth must 
come to an end, and now I have come to mine." 

Soon after this his remains were laid in state in Somer- 
set House, the room all draped with black cloth. 

Turner's portrait of himself at the age of seventeen, 


now in the National Gallery, shows that he had learnt 
a great deal from the great portrait painter. 

According to a catalogue of Turner's works at the 
Royal Academy, published by Boone in 1857, the first 
exhibited picture was Dover Castle, assigned to 1787, 
when the boy would be but twelve years old. There is 
also a drawing of Wanstead mentioned. It seems, how- 
ever, that both these works were by another painter of y^^W 
the same name, and that the very first water-colour sent ■ ■ ■• < 
by J. M. W. Turner to the Royal Academy was a view 
of the Archbishop's Palace at Lambeth, with Westminster 
Bridge beyond. It was only 14 x 10, and was exhibited 
in 1790. All this time Turner continued to colour prints 
and wash in skies for architects. When, in after life, his 
friends expressed wonder at his having thus worked at 
half-a-crown a night, he used to say, "Well! and what 
could be better practice?" An old architect told Thorn- 
bury he had often paid the boy a guinea for putting in 
a background, calling for that purpose at his father's 
shop in Maiden Lane. On no occasion was he allowed 
to see Turner draw, and all he did was concealed in his 

Turner at this time, says Mr. Lovell Reeve, was a 
short, sturdy, sailor-like youth, endowed with a vigorous 
constitution, and inured to hard beds and simple fare. 
He used to tramp the country with his baggage tied up in 
a handkerchief, sketching as he went. One of his first 
tours was to Oxford, to execute some commissions for 
his patron, Mr. Henderson. A poor artist, named Cooke, 
walked with him until his feet got sore and he was left 


behind whilst the indefatigable Turner walked on. As 
for sleeping, any humble village public-house at which 
he could obtain shelter was good enough for him. 

When he was at school at Margate, Turner had formed 
an acquaintance with the family of one of the boys, and 
to his schoolfellow's sister he soon became attached. 
We may suppose that in some of his walking tours he 
revisited the Isle of Thanet, and at last he became en- 
gaged. When he went away Turner left his sweetheart 
a portrait of himself, and promised to write often. 

But the months followed each other, and no letters 
came. Turner was working hard in London, or wander- 
ing about England, painting its beauties and making 
a name for himself. The poor girl, made wretched 
by a stepmother, who, it appears, intercepted all the 
letters, waited on with no news from her lover, except 
the scraps of records in the newspapers describing his 
pictures. Two years rolled by, and another lover came 
to press his suit, when, believing herself forsaken, and 
unable any longer to resist the chance of disengaging 
herself from her stepmother's persecution, she at last 
yielded to her suitor's importunities. The day for 
the marriage was fixed and everything prepared, when 
within a week of the appointed day. Turner suddenly 
arrived from a distant tour. He had written constantly, 
and though he had received no replies, his faith had 
remained unshaken. One can only imagine what these 
two poor creatures said to each other; but the lady, 
reckoning her honour involved, felt that it was then too 
late, and Turner in bitter grief left her, vowing he would 



never marry. The union, which took place a few days 
afterwards, proved most unhappy, and thus did the 
wickedness of a bad woman spoil two lives. 

The young artist never recovered from this disappoint- 
ment, and was for ever afterwards dwelling on the loss 
he had sustained. That he loved this lady there can be 
no doubt. The misery of his whole scathed life, and the 
constant dwelling on these sad words, " the Fallacies of 
Hope," are fully sufficient to prove that. He gradually 
began to change, and became self-concentrated and 
reserved ; more fond of money and at the same time his 
passionate devotion to his art became intensified. 

Mr. Bell, an engraver, left some notes of his introduc- 
tion to Turner in 1795, and says that he stood by in the 
little room in Maiden Lane while the artist made his first 
attempt in oil from a sketch in crayon, which had been 
taken on the previous day, of a sunset on the river at 
Battersea. The boat in which the drawing was made had 
grounded whilst the work was going on, and had only 
been floated again with great labour. He also describes 
a larger picture of fishing boats in a gale off the Needles. 

Bell went on a tour with Turner which lasted six weeks. 
They went to Margate, Canterbury, Rochester, and here 
we meet another story of the first oil picture, which is 
now said to have been painted in the parsonage at Foots 
Cray. It represented the Norman Keep of Rochester, 
with fishermen pulling their boats ashore in a storm. 
The picture was in the style of De Loutherbourg, care- 
fully but thinly painted, so much so that the oil had 
made the colour run down the picture. I think there 


must have been some mistake about both these stones, 
and that Turner painted in oil some time before. The 
portrait of himself proves that he was by no means a 
beginner in that medium, even when he was only seven- 
teen. On one of his tours the thrifty young artist is 
reported to have lived for five days on a guinea. 

The mad-doctor Munro, of Adelphi Terrace, used to 
ask Turner and Girtin to his house, where in the winter 
evenings they had to do an hour or two sketching and 
colouring for half-a-crown each and supper. The doctor's 
rooms were full of pictures. A Wild Landscape, by Sal- 
vator Rosa; The Condemnation of Hainan by Rembrandt; 
a Gainsborough; A Man leading Horses \ a Snuyders; 
and many others. There were also fat portfolios, full of 
Canaletti drawings, De Loutherbourgs, Hearnes, Sand- 
bys, and Cozens — all sorts of subjects — Neapolitan coasts, 
Swiss views, Kentish scenes, castles and cathedrals in 
blue and India ink, Italian buildings in black chalk, 
cottages from the river on blue paper heightened with 
white, together with pen washed bistre, and pen-and-ink 
drawings by Ostade, Paul Potter, Vandervelde, and 

The half-crown drawings included a view of London 
from Temple Gardens, Hadley Church, Willesden, ship- 
ping in Dover Harbour, imitations of De Loutherbourg, 
the ruins of the Savoy Palace, and a street in Dartford, 
copied from a sketch. Mr. Henderson lived in the same 
terrace, and here also the two lads met to draw and 
copy as they did at their other patrons'. They copied 
prints and engravings by Malton and Canaletti views of 


London, the Mansion House, St. George's, Hanover 
Square, with a sedan chair passing, Dover with pigtailed 
boatmen, Tintern, and subjects on the Thames, varied 
from sketches by Mr. Henderson. It is said that in every 
case the copies were better than the originals. 

When Dr. Munro died, in 1833, Turner attended the 
sale of his pictures and bought up a great many of his 
own drawings. It is also said that the doctor once gave 
Turner a commission for one hundred drawings, but that 
rising artist abstained from executing it. 

De Loutherbourg, the Polish noble, born in Strasburg, 
who was paid £400 a year by David Garrick for painting 
the scenery of Drury Lane Theatre, and famous for his 
picture of Lord Howe's Victory, The Glorious First of 
June, seems to have had a great influence on the young 
painter's style. 

It must not be supposed that all the drawings executed 
about this time were as brilliant and full of colour and 
light as the later water-colours painted by the master. 
Colours, paper, and all that pertained to art, were very 
primitive. In the beginning a pictu»"^ ^f LLIv.-aort was 
little more than an outline, wti ked up and shaded with 
india ink or bistre, and then washed over with faint tints 
of blue, brown, yellow, green, and red. Whatever force 
the drawing possessed was the result of the dark under- 
washes of black tinted with transparent colour over it. 

In many cases the sketches, though powerful in effect, 
were very slight so far as colour was concerned, in fact 
little more than monochrome. Any attempt to increase 
the brilliancy of the drawings by leaving out the black 


and painting in the shadows, frankly, with strong colour 
seems to have been against the practice of the time. It 
may be that the painters of the eighteenth century were 
so accustomed to laying in their shadows with black or 
dark brown, and working over with thin colour, that they 
could not break themselves of the habit. It was not in 
water-colour only that the shadows were colourless: the 
oil-pictures had all of them the same peculiarity. 

This early fashion of painting in water-colour is now 
called the stained or tinted manner. It was only by small 
degrees that Girtin and Turner could advance towards 
the rendering of objects in their true colours. Step by 
step, at first in a nervous, tentative fashion, they tried to 
increase the brilliancy of the colour, perhaps hardly aware 
what they were wishing for. Now and then one of them 
would produce something quite different from the old 
fashion with the black shadows — but in the next draw- 
ing the underwash would come again with all its old 

It is very hard to break away from old ingrained 
habits, and besides, the tinted monochrome must have 
been a much more easy irck than the complicated exer- 
cise of thinking out a subject in colour, in tone, and 
arrangement all at once. Who painted the first true 
water-colour, in the present meaning of the word, I think 
could not be determined at this moment. Paul Sandby 
has been called the father of water-colour painting. 
Girtin has also the credit, whilst Cozens and John Smith 
are said to have produced, now and then, isolated ex- 
amples of true water-colours. Turner, so far back as 



1787, did a clumsy, ill-drawn '&V.t\.Q\Nuneham Courtenay; 
now in the National Gallery. In it the features of the 
landscape are depicted with heavy masses of colour with- 
out a trace of the black underpainting, but as he was only 
twelve years old at the time, it is quite possible that this 
may be a bit of boyish impatience to rush on to colour 
before the subject had been carried through to its com- 
pletion in black or gray, as was the fashion in those days. 
No doubt one of the reasons, for the long time that the 
old-fashioned under-painting lasted, was the fact that a 
great many of the drawings were painted expressly for 
engraving purposes. Of course, it was very important 
that the arrangement of the light and shade and com- 
position should be carried to great perfection, whilst the 
brilliancy of the colour was quite a minor consideration. 

Any one who has tried to carry out a design in strong, 
vivid colour, united to a powerful scheme of light and 
shade, well knows the tremendous difficulties of such a 
combination, and it is therefore not strange that Turner 
should have gone on producing black pictures and draw- 
ings in the stained fashion long after he had discovered 
the secret of pure colour. 

It seems that Turner gave lessons in painting about 
this time, but it does not appear that he was very popular 
with fashionable people. His manner was -^ugh and odd, 
and he often let his pupils paint on as they liked with- 
out correction. 

An architectural draughtsman, whose name was Dayes, 
thus describes Turner: " He may be considered a striking 
instance of how much may be gained by industry (if 



accompanied by temperance) even without the assistance 
of a master. The way he acquired his professional powers 
was borrowing where he could a drawing or picture to 
copy from, or by making a sketch of any one in the 
Exhibition early in the morning and finishing it at home. 
By such practices, and by patient perseverance, he has 
overcome all the difficulties of the art; so that the fine 
taste and colour which his drawings possess are scarcely 
to be found in any other, and are accompanied by a 
broad, firm chiaroscuro and a light and elegant touch. 
This man must be loved for his works, for his person is 
not striking, nor his conversation brilliant." 

In the Royal Academy of 1791 we find two drawings 
by Turner, King Johns Palace, Elthani; and Sweakley, 
near Uxbridge. In 1792, Malmesbnry Abbey (an interior 
of the ruins with a man, a dog and some pigs), and a 
sketch of The Pantheon, the morning after the fire. The 
year following he had three drawings, A View on the 
Avon, Bristol; which was hung in the ante-room, and 
The Gate of St. Augustine's Monastery, Canterbury ; also 
The Rising Squall; and Hot Wells, from St. Vincent's 
Rock. Perhaps these may have been painted when on a 
visit to his friends, the Harraways, at Bristol. 

In 1794, the time of the Reign of Terror in Paris, 
he had five ,\fa,wings in the Exhibition : A Fall on the 
River Monach, Cardigan; Christchurch Gate, Canterbury ; 
Tintern Abbey; and St. Anselvis Chapel, Canterbury. 
The last was a sketch of the Porch of Great Malvern 
Abbey. We may suppose it did not sell in the Academy, 
and that Turner settled his frame-maker's bill with it, 





for there is a note to that effect on the back. He also 
drew Rochester; and Chepstow ; for Walker's "Copper- 
plate Magazine." 

In 1795, Turner made pictures o{ Nottingham; Bridg- 
north; Matlock; d,x\d Birmingham; for the "Copperplate 
Magazine," and the Tower of Londoft for the " Pocket 
Magazine." In the Academy there were five Turner 
drawings: St. Hugh's Porch, Lincoln Cathedral; Mar- 
ford Mill, Wrexham; West Entrance of Peterborough 
Cathedral; The Transept of Tintern Abbey; The Welsh 
Bridge, Shrewsbury; A View near the Devil's Bridge; 
Choir in Kin^s College Chapel, Cambridge; and Cathe- 
dral Church, Lincoln. When Walter Thornbury wrote 
his " Life of J. M. W. Turner," there were old people still 
living who remembered Turner in the year 1795, when 
he was twenty, and taught drawing in London, Hadley, 
and other places. One of them described him as eccen- 
tric, but kind and amusing. Thornbury says he was too 
reserved and too tongue-tied to be able to teach what he 
knew, even if he had cared to disclose his hard-earned 
secrets. Blake, who was one of his pupils, complained of 
being left quite alone. As to the methods of water-colour 
painting, Ruskin has written pages about Turner's 
sponging without friction, laying in the chief masses in 
broad tints, never effacing anything, but working the 
details over these broad tints. How he brought out the 
soft lights with the point of a brush, and the brighter 
ones with the end of a stick. That he had a wonderful 
method of taking out high lights with bread, and damped, 
soaked, and pumped on his paper, drew the broken edges 

24 i.IFE OF J. M. W. TURNER 

of clouds with a quiver of the brush, and lastly, dashed 
in the warm touches of light. 

Writing of colour, Ruskin says: "That Turner began 
to introduce it with evident joyfulness and longing in his 
rude and simple studies, just as a child, if it could be 
supposed to govern itself by a fully developed intellect, 
would cautiously, but with infinite pleasure, add now 
and then a tiny dish of fruit or other dangerous luxury 
to the simple order of its daily fare. Thus in the fore- 
grounds of his most severe drawings we not unfre- 
quently find him indulging in the luxury of a peacock. 
A rainbow is another of his most frequently permitted 

Next year he drew Chester; Leith; Peterborough; 
Tunbridge; and Bath. 

Thornbury says: "About 1795 the mode of working 
water-colour began to change, monochrome being aban- 
doned. The local colour was laid on at once on its proper 
spot, and shadowed and tinted with graduated tones 
varied by reflections." 

In 1796 Turner exhibited eleven drawings: Fishermen 
at Sea; Close Gate, Salisbury; St. Erasjmis in JVest- 
Dmister Abbey, with Turner's name and "natus 1775," the 
date of his birth, on a gravestone in the foreground. I 
wonder if he ever thought he might be buried in the 
Abbey? As a matter of fact he lies in St. Paul's. 
Wolverhampton ; Landilo Bridge; and Dynevor Castle; 
A Cottage at Ely ; Chale Farm, Isle of Wight ; Llandaff 
Cathedral ; Waltham Abbey ; Interior of Ely Minster; and 
the West Front of Bath Abbey. 


About 1797, Turner paid his first visit to Yorkshire, 
and its beauties impressed him very much. The Wolds 
were almost the first really wild scenery he had seen ; 
and he always seems to have been tinged in after life 
by recollections of the Yorkshire hills. Ruskin even 
goes so far as to say that Turner always seized with 
instant eagerness, and every appearance of contentment 
on forms of mountain which are rounded into banks 
above and cut into precipices below, as is the case in 
most elevated tablelands in the chalk coteaux of the 
Seine, the basalt borders of the Rhine and the lower 
gorges of the Alps. And that Turner literally humbled 
the grander Swiss mountains to make them resemble 
the Yorkshire scaurs. 

Further, Ruskin says, "The first instance, therefore, of 
Turner's mountain drawing was from those shores of 
Wharf which I believe he never could revisit without 
tears; nay, which for all the latter part of his life he 
never could speak of but his voice faltered." And then 
" The scenery whose influence I can trace most definitely 
throughout his works, varied as they are, is that of York- 
shire. Of all his drawings, I think those of the Yorkshire 
series have the most heart in them, the most affectionate, 
simple, unwearied, serious finishing of truth. There is in 
them little seeking after effect, but strong love of place; 
little exhibition of the artist's own powers or peculiari- 
ties, but intense appreciation of the smallest local 
minutiae. ... I am in the habit of looking to the 
Yorkshire drawings as indicating one of the culminating 
points in Turner's career. In these he attained the high- 


est degree of what he had up to that time attempted — 
namely, finish and quantity of form united with expres- 
sion of atmosphere and light without colour. His early 
drawings are singularly instructive in this definiteness 
and simplicity of aim." This is Ruskin's description of 
the journey: " At last fortune wills that the lad's true life 
shall begin, and one summer's evening, after Turner's 
wonderful stage-coach experiences on the north road, 
which gave him a love for stage coaches ever after, he 
finds himself sitting alone among the Yorkshire hills. 
For the first time the silence of Nature around him, her 
freedom sealed to him, her glory opened to him. Peace 
at last and freedom at last and loveliness at last." 

In 1797 four drawings were in the exhibition: Transept 
of Ewenny Priory, Glamorganshire; the Choir of Salis- 
bury Cathedral ; Ely Cathedral, South Transept; and the 
North Porch of Salisbury Cathedral, In the same 
Academy Turner had in oil, Moonlight; a study at Mill- 
bank, a very faithful rendering of just such a scene as 
may often be witnessed on a calm summer night. Be- 
sides, there was a picture of Fishermen coming ashore at 
Sunset previous to a Gale. 

In this year Turner left Maiden Lane and took a 
house in Hand Court, round the corner. Girtin was 
living at 35, Drury Lane, and no doubt the two friends 
saw a great deal of each other, for Turner had a great 
admiration for the work of his chum. They seem to have 
painted just the same sort of subjects, for we find the 
titles of his drawings, St. Albans Church; two views of 
fedburg; two of St. Cuthbert's; Holy Island; views of 


York and of Ouse Bridge. Next year Turner exhibited 
Mor?tmg among the Coniston Fells; a very poetic picture, 
quite characteristic of what afterwards came to be recog- 
nized as his own individual hills and clouds. With the 
title was a quotation from Milton : 

Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise 
From hill, or steaming lake, dusky or gray, 
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold 
In honour of the world's great Author rise. 

This picture (47x35) is now in the National Gallery. 
Then Dunstmiborough Castle, N.E. Coast of Northum- 
berlajid; afterwards engraved in the " Liber Studio- 
rum," and Winesdale, Yorkshire; an Autumnal morning. 
Besides there were six water-colours: The Refectory 
of Kirkstall Abbey, Yorkshire, engraved in Brittons' 
"Architectural Antiquities," and also with variations in 
the " Liber Studiorum," Norham Castle on the Tweed, 
Summer's Morn; with a quotation from Thomson. This 
drawing must have marked a turning point in Turner's 
career, for years afterwards, when he was out with 
Cadel!, the Edinburgh bookseller, making sketches for 
the " Provincial Antiquities," the artist suddenly took off 
his hat and made a low bow to the ruins. " What the 
devil are you about now?" "Oh," was the reply, "I 
made a drawing or painting of Norham several years 
since. It took ; and from that day to this I have had as 
much to do as my hands could execute." Turner was 
fond of the subject, and used it to illustrate Scott's 
" Tales of a Grandfather," and also with slight altera- 

.^ fl 


tions in the " Liber Studiorum." Besides the foregoing 
there were Holy Island Cathedral^ Northu^nberland; of 
which there is is an engraving in the "Liber"; Amble- 
side Mill, Westmoreland; The Dormitory mid Transept of 
Fountains Abbey — Evening; with a quotation from Thom- 
son; and A Study in September of the Farm House^ Mr. 
Lock's Park, Mickleham, Surrey. What a roving time the 
young painter must have had tramping the country with 
his kit tied up in a handkerchief at the end of a stick! 
y^ He would sit down and sketch whatever took his fancy, 
tramping on to the next striking view, or eating his 
bread and cheese at a wayside inn. There are rooms full 
of tin boxes loaded with his sketches in the National 
Gallery. I have turned over some of his drawing-books 
full of notes and outlines, scraps and memoranda, drawn 
on both sides of the paper, some in black chalk and 
others in white. In one or two the subjects cross each 
other, or more often one view is spread right across 
two sheets. Many of the books are now only empty 
covers, for Ruskin has cut out the drawings to sort them 
into groups. 

Now begins the first of his nine years of drawings for 
the " Oxford Almanac." In the Academy of 1799 there 
were five oil pictures: Fishermen becalmed, previous to a 
Storm — Twilight; Harlech Castle, from Twgwyn Ferry 
— Summer's evening, twilight; Battle of the Nile, at tefi 
o'clock, when " L' Orient" blew i4p, from the station of the 
gunboats, between the battery and Castle of A boukir. 

Immediate in a flame 
But soon obscured with smoke, all heaven appear'd 


From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar 

Imbowell'd with outrageous noise the air, 

And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 

Their devilish glut, chain'd thunderbolts and hail 

Of iron globes. — 

Milton's Paradise Lost. 

Biittermere Lake, with a part of Croniack Water, Cuinber- . 
land — a shower; now in the National Gallery. There ' ^ 
were also eight water-colours: Kilgerran Castle on the 
Twyvey — hazy sunrise previous to a sultry day; Sunny 
Aforning- (the cattle by S. Gilpin); Abergavenny Bridge, 
Monmouthshire — clearing up after a showery day; Salis- 
bury Cathedral, inside of the Chapter House; West Front 
of Salisbury Cathedral ; Caernarvon Castle, Morning, 
from Dr. Langhorn's " Visions of Fancy "; Warkworth 
Castle, NortJiumberland — thunderstorm approaching at 

In this year Turner was elected an Associate of the 
Royal Academy. He also made a number of drawings 
of Fonthill in Wiltshire, the so-called Abbey built by 
Beckford, the alderman's son, at a cost of a quarter of a 
million pounds. This voluptuous genius wrote the mar- 
vellous Eastern tale of " Vathek " when he was twenty- 

Another literary patron of the artist was Dr. VVhitaker, 
vicar of the parish of Whalley in Lancashire. This 
archaeologist, who was writing a history of Richmond- 
shire, employed Turner to make designs for the plates 
which were to illustrate it. There is a letter written by a 
Mr. Wilson, describing how he tried to settle a ludicrous 


dispute between a Mr.Townley and Turner the draughts- 
man. An old and very bad painting of Gawthorp, as it 
stood in the last century, with its clipped yews and par- 
terres, had been found. This he insisted would be more 
characteristic than Turner's own sketch, which he asked 
him to lay aside and copy the other. Turner, abhorring 
the landscape, refused, and wrote very tragically on the 
subject. Mr. Wilson said he tried to make a compromise, 
which he feared would not succeed, as the painter had all 
the irritability of youthful genius. The end of the affair 
was that Turner kept his drawing, and the bad picture 
was sent to be engraved. 

I wonder what Dr. Whitaker, Mr. Wilson, and Mr. 
Townley would have said had they been told that in 
time to come the " History of Richmondshire," would be 
bought at very fancy prices, not for antiquarian lore or 
for the genealogy of county families, but only for the 
plates of Turner the draughtsman. 

In the Academy of 1800, besides Carnarvon Castle^ 
North Wales; there were five " Views of the Gothic 
Abbey now building at Fonthill, the seat of William 
Beckford, Esqre," no doubt those that were painted the 
year before. A well-known picture-dealer remembered 
being down with Beckford when the three lunched 
together in a tent on a spot selected by the artist. One 
of the two oil pictures also belonged to the imaginative 
writer of weird tales. The subject was typical of him : 
The Fifth Plague of Egypt. A nd the L ord sent thunder 
and hail and the fire ran along the ground. But the title 
should have read the Seventh Plague. The last was 


Dolbadern Castle, North Wales; a mountain glen in the 
style of Wilson. This is said to be the diploma picture, 
but Turner was not elected Academician until two years 
after. In December, this year, one Mary Turner, of St. 
Paul's, Covent Garden, was admitted into Bethlehem 
Hospital insane; it seems likely that this was Turner's 

Girtin was two years older than Turner, and seemed 
to have got away from the fashion of painting everything 
with black shadows rather sooner than Turner, who, 
though he had a great admiration for his friend's brown 
landscapes, continued to work himself in little more than 
tinted monochrome. There is a story that a dealer, after 
trying to bargain with Turner for some time, at last said: 
" The picture 's too dear. I have a better one below that 
cost less." " Have you?" said the artist. "Yes, I have, 
in a fly at the door." Then said Turner, "If you have, 
it is one of Tom Girtin's." 

In 1801 there were four water-colours in the Academy. 
London — Atittunnal Morning, a view from a hill looking 
over the river towards St. Paul's and Westminster 
Abbey; Pembroke Castle, South Wales — thunderstorm 
approaching ; St. Donafs Castle, South Wales— Summer 
Evening; and The Chapter House, Salisbury. There were 
two oil pictures of Turner's, The Army of the Medes de- 
stroyed in the Desert by a Whirlwind, foretold by fere- 
miah; and Dutch Boats in a Gale — -fishermen endeavour- 
ing to put their fish on board. A Mr. Caldwell wrote at 
this time as follows: " A new artist has started up — one 
Turner. He had before exhibited stained drawings, but 


now paints landscapes in oil, beats Loutherbourg and 
every other artist all to nothing. A painter of my ac- 
quaintance and a good judge declares his painting as 
magic ; that it is worth every landscape painter's while 
to make a pilgrimage to see and study his works." 
/T^j^^^^^^ f^r The year 1802 saw Turner elected a full member of 
the Academy, and Tom Girtin, showing symptoms of 
consumption, was ordered to try a warmer climate. He 
i^i/v*-' •'■ went to Paris in the spring, and there he painted a series 

^^"^ of drawings for the Duke of Bedford. In the autumn he 

was back at home, and in November he died. Some un- 
known person put up a monument to him in St. Paul's, 
Covent Garden. Turner was much affected, and always 
spoke of Poor Tom with deep feeling. A very fine collec- 
tion of Girtin's and Turner's early work was given to the 
printroom of theBritishMuseum by Henderson, for whom 
the boys had worked in Adelphi Terrace years before. 

In this year Turner moved to a house in Harley Street, 
and as the Tory Government had put a tax on hair 
powder some time before, wigs began to go out of 
fashion. The dark shop was shut, and the little barber 
gave up most of his trade. We learn that, years after- 
wards, when Turner must have been very well off, the 
old man used still to go up, at stated times, to dress 
the wigs of a few of his old customers round Maiden 
Lane who were faithful to the ancient fashion. The 
father and son lived on very friendly terms together. 
The elder strained the canvases, attended to the studio, 
showed in visitors, and looked after the dinner, even if 
he did not himself cook it. 


There was peace now with France, and Turner started ^^,^^ 
on his first Continental journey, landing at Calais from c^/'^^''**^ 
the old sailing packet which at that time was the only / <i. o ^ 
link between the two countries. Here he made the 
studies for that wonderful picture we all know so well. 
From there he pushed on to the wine country and Savoy, 
and at last reached the Alps. What a tour this must 
have been through the wonderland which had been so 
long closed to Englishmen by the war. This year he 
exhibited four pictures: Fishermen upon a Lee-shore in 
Squally Weather; The Tenth Plague of Egypt, now in the 
National Gallery; Ships bearing up for Anchorage, and 
\.\\Q. fason, a dark Salvator Rosa-like picture, wonderfully 
suggestive of horror. Also four water-colours, the fruits 
of his journey to Scotland the year before: TJie Fall of 
the Clyde, Lanarkshire — noon {vide Akenside's " Hymn 
to the Naiads ") ; Kilchurn Castle, ivitJi the Cruchan Ben 
Mountains, Scotland — noon. Hamerton gives many 
pages descriptive of the real Kitchurn and writes a long 
description of the differences between Turner and nature. 
I daresay the artist only worked from a slight sketch, 
and thus lost a great deal of the character of the place. 
It must also be borne in mind that it was not the 
fashion at this time to make any attempt to paint 
the real appearance of any scene. Edinburgh Neiu 
Town, Castle, etc., from the Water of Leith; Ben Lomond 
Mountains, Scotland; The Traveller {vide Ossian's 
"War of Caros"). We catch but one or two glimpses 
of Turner on his travels. He told one fellow-traveller 
that to mix oil with water-colours was dangerous, and 




expressed his dislike of drawing with pens because they 
were apt to sputter. He used to stick wafers on pictures 
to show their faults, and preferred to spit in his powder 
colours to damping them with water. At Boulogne he 
was last seen in a boat, bobbing off the shore, drawing in 
an anxious, absorbed way, and heedless of all else. In 
y 1 803, Turner exhibited the great Calais Pier, with French 
Poissards preparing for Sea, an English Packet arriving. 
A wonderfully spirited composition, full of life and action. 
We are told that this is a recollection of Vanderveld, 
but if the subject was painted in imitation of the great 
Dutchman, Turner certainly very much improved on his 
forerunner. Vanderveld could never have painted any- 
thing as grand as Calais Pier, any more than Salvator 
Rosa could have outdone the Jason. Ruskin objects that 
nobody is wet, but it must be borne in mind that realistic 
treatment in a subject of this sort was never attempted 
in the early part of the last century. No one ever tried 
to paint such a scene just as it appeared in nature, and 
why should Turner be expected to throw over all the 
teaching of his time, to strive to present a literal tran- 
script of nature? No one else thought of such a thing. 
In portrait art the painters of the early nineteenth cen- 
tury did mostly try to paint their sitters as they looked 
in the still north light of the studio, but even then they 
often put in an impossible background of forest or gar- 
den, or perhaps, if the model were a sailor, a sea-fight, 
but the lighting of the whole was that of a room with a 
tall window. The sky was never brilliant, nor was it re- 
flected in the foreshortened surfaces of the sitter's face. 


Grass was never green, the leaves of trees were always 
brown or black, and the branches treated in a conven- 
tional manner as taught by the drawing masters of the day. 
In the Calais Pier the light and shade is just that of 
Turner's own studio in Harley Street, the inky clouds 
throw black shadows just as a table or a sofa would in a 
room, the pale blue sky is not reflected anywhere either 
in the tumbling water or the tarry sides of the fishing 
boats. If my reader wishes to grasp the width of the gulf 
between realism and Turner, let him go to the Tait 
Gallery and study Henry Moore's Newhaven Packet, or 
Millais's Fringe of the Moor, and when he has noted the 
brilliancy of the light and shade on the driving scud, and 
the perfection of the drawing of the dancing waves, every 
facet reflecting its own little strip of cloud with almost 
mathematical accuracy, and yet the whole seeming to 
heave before our very eyes, then turn to Millais's fresh 
green meadow, where the grass seems to be actually 
springing up in the glorious sunshine, and the heather 
sparkles with dew in the fresh mountain air. Neither 
Moore nor Millais are a bit like Turner. One would say 
they knew a hundred facts that Turner never dreamt 
of. And yet when we are back among the conventional 
black old pictures, such as TJie Shipwreck; The Spithead; 
or even the impossible, gloomy Garden of the Hesperides; 
we feel that, after all, the old Wizard was a worker of 
wonders, and that he in his dark London room, with 
little more than black, brown, and gray, could move us 
to awe, terror, or wonder by the thousand-and-one secrets 
which he had at his fingers' ends; but which we moderns 


in the struggle to be realistic may perhaps have for- 
gotten, or even, it may be, have never tried to learn. 

Besides the Calais Pier, there was the Festival upon 
the Opening of the Vintage of Magon, painted for the first 
Lord Yarborough, a Claude-like stretch of country, with 
a winding river, spanned by a round-arched bridge, a 
town, terraced hillsides and pale blue mountains, clumps 
of conventional trees and peasants dancing. Burnet tells 
us that when first painted it was full of vivid greens and 
yellows; but I fancy this is only his way of putting it — 
no one painted green in those days. Then there were 
two pictures of Bontiville, Savoj'; one with Mont Blanc 
and the other with the castle of St. Michael {The Holy 
Family; is quite the conventional Old Master), and St. 
Hughes denomicing Vengeance on the Shepherd of Cor- 
niayeurs in the Valley of d'Aoiist; a landscape view with 
small figures. Glacier and Source of the Ai^veron; a fine 
composition of the Mer de Glace. 

This year in May the peace with France came to an 
end, and the Giant Usurper, as our newspapers called the 
First Consul, began the menace of invasion. 340,000 
volunteers were raised in England, 70,000 in Ireland, 
and 25,000 Sea Fencibles ; there were 469 ships of war, 
and 800 gunboats made ready. 

There is no record of any part being taken by Turner 
in preparation for the defence of the country against the 
great fleet of flat-bottomed boats which were to carry 
the French over the Channel. Indeed, if we may judge 
by the titles of his pictures, things went on quite quietly. 
In 1804 he exhibited a classic subject, Narcissus, melt- 




ing and languishing away, and the sHghted Echo, sigh- 
ing back his sighs, and answering sadly to the lovers' 

"Ah! youth beloved in vain!" Narcissus cries; 
"Ah! youth beloved in vain!" the Nymph replies, 
"Farewell! " says he, the parting sound scarce fell 
From his faint lips, but she replied, "Farewell!" 

There was A Viezv of Edinburgh from Calt07i Hill, a 
water-colour, and Boats carrying out Afichors and Cables 
to Dutch Men-of- War, a Vanderveld sort of subject of 
old-time ships. I have no doubt he continued to work as 
hard as ever, constantly adding to his knowledge of 
nature and observing everything. Engravings were pub- 
lished of Inverary, Loch Lomond, Patterdale, Abingdon, 
Newbury, Donnington Castle, and the inside of Brase- 
nose College. It was mostly by these that he made his 

In 1805, the year of Nelson's wonderful chase of 
Villeneuve to the West Indies, and, later, of his glorious 
death at the moment of victory at Trafalgar, Turner 
painted his tremendous picture of The Shipwi'eck — 
one of the most spirited of his seascapes. I am never 
tired of looking at this wonderful composition, and the 
more I study it the more I find to wonder at and admire. 
The masterly way in which knowledge and artifice are 
woven together, the endless modulations of light merging 
into shadow, the variety of the tones, each little fleck of 
foam or swirl of inky water seeming to play its part in 
the building up of the harmonious whole. The swing 


and action of the figures, too, are also among the marvels 
of this sombre record of man's battle with the might of 
the remorseless elements. Not only is each attitude 
right in itself and full of meaning; but it also forms part 
of a group, and the group in its turn takes its proper 
place in the picture. Of course if artifice of this sort were 
used in a commonplace manner, the result would be 
most uninteresting and wearisome. But Turner has 
added the salt of his learning and observation of nature. 
Each incident is not only the record of some quickly- 
moving phase which passed before his eye; but it is 
much more than that; it is a selection of the best of 
many changing aspects. Ruskin might object that the 
sea is not like real water, and that nobody is wet. 
Another critic may remark that the heavily laden boat 
in the centre must swamp in a moment, and that clouds 
and craft do not throw such jet black shadows. Very 
true, but why criticise The Shipwreck from a realistic 
point of view? It was never meant to be a literal tran- 
script of nature. As for colour, it has so little, that it 
might almost as well be painted in black, white, and 
brown. The light and shade is that of a room, not of 
the open air. In fact, the art is the art of a hundred 
years ago. 

At the British Institution he exhibited The Goddess of 
Discord in the Garden of the Hesperides. Ruskin has writ- 
ten a great many pages to prove how very unreal this 
picture is, and how much better it would have been if the 
mountains had been full of endless fracture and detail ; if 
the torrent had worn itself a bed, as a real torrent does. 



He points out what a wonderful lesson it would be for 
us all, if we could for a moment set a true piece of Swiss 
foreground and mountain beside that brown shore and 
those barren crags. Before we agree to this, let us con- 
sider what the picture represents. The daughters of 
Hesperus, dwelling in the wonderful garden in the 
Atlas, guarded by the dragon Ladon, were perfectly un- 
real persons living in a land of dreams and fancy. If 
Turner had placed them in a realistic mountain valley, 
where everything was quite possible and proper, how 
very unsatisfactory it all would have been. Besides, it 
was not the fashion, for in the days of George III 
artists never attempted to paint either the sky blue or 
the grass green. Later on, when Constable tried to 
introduce a little green into his trees, Sir George Beau- 
mont brought out an old brown fiddle as a sample of 
the sort of colour the trees ought to be. 

1806 found him still at 64, Harley Street, and he 
exhibited The Fall of the Rhine at Shaitffhatisen, and 
Pembroke Castle, a view across an inlet ruffled by a 
strong breeze. On a stretch of wet sand are fishermen 
with their catch, an anchor, and some timber. His 
picture of Saltash; must also belong to this period, if we 
may judge by the inscription on the brick wall: 
" England expects that every man will do his duty." 
Only one engraving was published this year, Exeter 
College, for the " Oxford Almanack." 

Two pictures, now in the National Gallery, were 
painted in 1807, -^ Country Blacksmith, disputing upon 
the Price of Iron, and the Price charged to the Butcher 


for shoeing his Pony (a Wilkie-like composition), and 
i^j^the Su7i Rising tJirougJi Vapour — Fishermen cleaning 
,_, tvv^i^ 'and selling Fish. It is curious that in this picture, a 
work that the painter thought worthy to be bequeathed 
to the nation, the figures of the fishermen should be 
taken almost exactly from a picture by Teniers, and the 
men-of-war are the snub-nosed high-pooped ships of 
Vanderveld's time, with sprit topmast at the bowsprit 
end and lateen mizzens. One would almost fancy that 
Turner wished to show the world how well he could 
imitate the two Dutch painters, just as, later on, he went 
out of his way to break a lance with Claude Lorraine. 

Nearly a hundred years before, this great landscape 

■^ painter had etched plates of all his pictures, which he 

• /.</...:,, published under the name of the " Liber Veritatis"; and 

in 1806 a Mr. W. F. Wells suggested to Turner that he 

should produce a book of the same sort, calling it the 

"Liber Studiorum." 

Miss Wells gives the following description of the be- 
ginning of the " Liber " proposed by her father. "After 
long and continued persuasion. Turner at last gave way; 
and one day, when he was staying with us in Kent (he 
always spent a part of the autumn at our cottage), he 
said, ' Well Gaffer, I see there will be no peace till I 
comply; so give me a piece of paper. There now! Rule 
the size for me and tell me what I am to do,' My father 
said, ' Well, divide your subject into classes, say. Pas- 
toral, Marine, Elegant Pastoral, and so forth.' " Nothing 
could have suited Turner's fancy better. The work should 
be at once produced and Claude should be outdone. 



The " Liber Studiorum " was published, at odd times, 
in parts of five plates each, proofs at twenty-five shillings, 
and prints at fifteen shillings. Turner etched the subjects 
himself upon the copper in strong trenchant leading 
lines, and engravers were engaged to copy his wash 
drawings in mezzotint over the etched work. Unfortun- 
ately, there were misunderstandings and quarrels. Turner 
was always vigorous and exacting in any bargain, and, 
expecting others to be as punctual as he was himself, 
fought with his engravers. 

C. G. Lewis, engraver, was paid six guineas for aqua- 
tinting an etching, but the price was so small, that he 
would not undertake any more, and this led to a quarrel, 
which lasted some years. Charles Turner, the next man, 
had eight guineas. His engagement was that he should 
engrave fifty drawings, and attend to the printing, pub- 
lishing, and delivery of the numbers. The engraver 
got through the first twenty plates, and then asked for 
more money. The artist flew into a great rage, and the 
result was that the two men did not speak for nineteen 
years. Finally other engravers were paid as much as 
twelve guineas a plate. The Lost Sailor was engraved 
by the artist himself. Mistrusting the publishers, he 
tried to put the book on the market. His servants 
were set to sewing the covers on, and many proofs 
were stolen or lost. The public did not understand 
the mixture of line and mezzotint, and the " Liber " 
was often suspended, once for as long as three years. 
Only seventy of one hundred plates were finished, and 
ten not carried further than the drawings. 


"-' ' Much more successful were the line engravings which, 
' during a long life, were Turner's chief source of income. 
As the years went on the master gradually drew about 
him, and taught, a school of engravers, who raised their 
art to a much higher level than had ever been dreamt of 
in the old days. Turner, with a lump of black chalk in 
one hand and white chalk in the other, would ask: 
" Which will you have it done with? " Then he would 
pull the proof together, darkening a little there, or 
brightening here, slowly weaving the whole into the 
perfect work of art, full to overflowing with details, and 
faithfully recorded beauties. Yet each incident was so 
/ . subordinated and kept in its place that it was made to 
' form but a half-noticed chord, here and there, in the 
grand symphony of the subject. Line engraving was at 
its zenith, when Turner was alive and active. However 
hard and exacting he may have been in his dealings 
with those who toiled so long and painfully to render 
the minute finish of his water-colours, we may be sure 
that the whole of his efforts were directed towards 
making each plate as perfect as possible. When Turner 
died, engraving began to go down hill. One by one his 
interpreters followed him, and when Miller, Goodall, 
Wallis, Cooke, Cousins, Heath, and Allen, were no more, 
the art died too. 

A picture was required as a companion to the sea 
fight by De Loutherbourg, twelve feet by eight, represent- 
ing the " Queen Charlotte " engaging the " Montagne " 
in the battle of the glorious ist of June; and Turner, as 
the first marine painter of the day, was asked to under- 



take to paint the "Victory" at Trafalgar." Here is a ^^Jj"^ I 
description of the work taken from James's " Naval -yja^cJc/i^ii 
History": " In due time the large area of canvas which, 
to correspond with the other picture, became necessary 
for this, was covered with all the varied tints which Mr. 
Turner knows so well how to mingle and combine, to 
give effect to his pictures and excite the admiration of 
the beholder." 

" Unfortunately for the subject which this splendid 
picture is meant to represent, scarcely a line of truth, 
beyond perhaps the broadside view of the ' Victory's ' 
hull, is to be seen upon it. To say what time of the 
day, or what particular incident, in the ' Victory's ' pro- 
ceedings, is meant to be referred to, we do not pretend ; 
for the telegraphic message is going up, which was hoisted 
at about 11 h. 40 m. a.m., the mizen topmast is falling, 
which went about i p.m., a strong light is reflected upon 
the ' Victory's ' bow and sides from the burning ' Achille,' 
which ship did not catch fire until 4 h. 30 m., nor explode 
until 5 h. 45 m. p.m.; the fore topmast, or rather, if our 
memory is correct, the foremast of the British three 
decker is falling, which never fell at all, and the 
' Redoubtable ' is sinking under the bows of the ' Vic- 
tory,' although the French ship did not sink until the 
night of the 22nd, and then under the stern of the 
' Swiftsure.' " 

Nelson's Flag-Captain, Hardy, pronounced it to be 
" more like a street scene than a battle, and the ships 
more like houses than men-o'-war." One old Greenwich 
pensioner said: " I can't make English of it, sir, I can't 


make English of it. It wants altering altogether." 
Whilst another exclaimed: "What a Trafalgar! It's a 
d — deal more like a brickfield. We ought to have had 
a Huggins." Huggins, almost forgotten now, was a 
painter of ships in these days of oak and hemp. 

Let us candidly confess that all these critics were in 
the right, and that the great picture is not in the least 
like what really took place off Cape Trafalgar. It was 
not Turner's way to paint literal transcripts of any 
subjects. Even if the principal objects were buildings 
or mountains, the artist thought nothing of shifting 
whole streets, diverting rivers, and filling up valleys; 
and it was not to be expected that he would be very 
particular about his facts, when he came to paint a 
battle. Others were the same. De Loutherbourg went 
so far as to paint the " Queen Charlotte " not where she 
was on the glorious ist of June, but where the Admiral 
wanted her to be. And even Huggins, when his work is 
taken bit by bit in this cold matter-of-fact twentieth 
century, does not strike us as particularly truthful. 

Whilst Turner was at work, he was criticised and 
instructed daily by the naval men about the Court. It 
is said, that during eleven days, he altered the rigging to 
suit the fancy of every fresh visitor, and he did it with 
the greatest good humour; in fact he often joked about 
having worked all these days without pay or profit. 
I think it was quite characteristic of the artist that he 
should crowd into one picture the incidents that hap- 
pened during two days. Just as he would, at another 
time, paint a town from two or three different points of 


view, or try to represent daylight, sunset, and moonlight, 
all at the same time. 

Whatever faults the Greenwich picture of the battle 
may have, it certainly has one quality; it makes all 
other work near it look like dross, and stands out a thing 

In 1808, Turner, besides his house in Harley Street, 
had a new address at West End, Upper Mall, Hammer- 
smith. It is said he wanted to be near de Loutherbourg, 
for he was never too proud to learn of anyone. Mrs. de 
Loutherbourg one day shut the door in Turner's face, 
saying, he had picked up too much from her husband. 

He was now appointed Professor of Perspective at the 
Royal Academy Schools, an honour of which he was 
proud, for he always took care that the fact should be 
stated after his name in the catalogue of the exhibition. 
There can be no doubt that Turner thoroughly under- 
stood the principles and practice of the science, for 
many of the pictures, now in the National Gallery, could 
not have been produced unless he had had perspective 
at his fingers' ends. But though he took immense pains, 
and prepared very elaborate drawings, there can be no 
doubt that Turner was not very successful as a teacher. 
As Thornbury says, " He had every disadvantage, humble 
birth, little or no education, ungainly manners, eccen- 
tricity, and a shy, retiring nature." Besides these, the 
new Professor had a singular want of power to express 
even the simplest ideas either in words or writing. 
All his life he had been forcing his fingers to express 
his thoughts, not in sound, but in light and shade, colour 


/ and form. Mr. Nesbit has written a book called " The 
Insanity of Genius," in which he tries to prove that a 
genius has one part of his brain unduly nourished and 
strengthened at the expense of some other part. This 
theory would seem to apply to Turner with some force. 
One corner of his brain, the corner which recorded im- 
pressions of colour, form, and light and shade, and then 
with matchless cunning arranged and wove these 
into his wonderful compositions, must have been ab- 
normally developed by long practice. But quick as his 
delicate fingers were to follow his fancy, or express his 
emotions in line or tint, yet the same fingers, when used 
to convey his thoughts in written words, seem to have 
been powerless, except for the production of involved and 
meaningless sentences. I think the students must have 
learnt much more from Turner's drawings (which demon- 
strated not only the construction and projection of all 
sorts of architectural subjects with sun shadows and 
reflections), than his explanations of them, which, if they 
resembled his other writing, must have been very diffi- 
cult to understand. 

In the Royal Academy, Turner exhibited a picture 
with one of his usual long-winded titles, The Unpaid 
Bill, or, The Dentist reproving his Son's Prodigality; 
and in the British Institution, another, The Battle of 
Trafalgar, as seen from the uiizzen starboard sJiroicds of 
the Victory ; this picture is now in the National Gallery, 
as also the dark and gloomy fason. There were two 
engravings for the "Oxford Almanack," and Parts II 
and III of the " Liber Studiurum." 


In 1809 Spithead, Boafs Crew recovering an Anchor; 
was shown with two pictures of Tabley, Cheshire; one, 
A Windy Day; and the other Calm Morning, The 
hundredth work exhibited at the Academy was The 
Garretier's Petition, with a quotation : 

Aid me ye powers ! Oh, bid my thoughts to roll, 

calling on the muse to descend, and finish well his " long 
sought line." There is a plan of Parnassus on the wall. 

Besides Sir J. F. Leicester, Turner had other patrons. 
The Earl of Lonsdale, for whom he painted Lowther 
Castle, and Lord Egremont, owner of Petworth, where 
the painter was a welcome guest until 1837, when the 
rough, cunning, honest old nobleman died. Thornbury 
tells us Egremont liked Turner, and the pair of eccen- 
tric men got on well together. 

London, fro7n Greenwich, was painted this year; he 
also published " Liber Studiorum," No. IV. When the 
copper of these plates began to show signs of wear, 
Turner used to alter the light and shade, and work upon 
the subjects until they looked quite fresh again. He 
has been censured for this, and even called dishonest, 
but I think the worked-up plates must have been quite 
worth the money paid for them, even though they may 
have been changed a bit from the first states. 

In his efforts to attain perfection, Turner was some- 
times very hard towards his engravers. Charles Turner 
had produced a very fine mezzotint of The Shipwreck, 
~,l X 23. Lupton began a plate of Calais Pier to 
match this, but when the proofs were shown to Turner, 


he insisted on making the boats much larger, and 
pulled the whole subject so much about that at last the 
unhappy engraver gave up the work in disgust, and the 
plate was never published. 
AA.a<^'^'^ Here is a description of the artist's appearance and 
dress about this time: "The very moral of a master 
carpenter, with lobster red face, twinkling staring grey 
eyes, white tie, blue coat with brass buttons, crab- 
shell turned-up boots, large fluffy hat, and enormous 

In 1 8 10 he exhibited the two views of Lowther Castle 
he had painted the year before; he also painted Abing- 
don^ Berkshire (a peaceful, quiet evening, with cattle and 
horses standing knee-deep in the still river), for Lord 
Egremont ; and the Wreck of the " Minotaur " on tJie 
Hank Sands for Lord Yarborough. I think this last the 
most splendid sea picture that has ever been painted ; 
the power of the waves and the littleness of man have 
never been so magnificently suggested. The forefront 
of the composition is filled with floating masts and 
spars. Shipwrecked sailors and marines cling to them 
desperately, whilst the bluff-bowed Dutch boats, tossed 
like playthings on the great rollers, are manoeuvring to 
come to the rescue. The "Minotaur" herself lies dis- 
masted right on her broadside, and the whole scene is 
one of death and horror. 

Amongst other friends made by the artist, Mr. Fawkes 
of Farnley Hall may be noted. This kind and hospitable 
squire first became acquainted with Turner about i802 
when he was drawing Ric/unond, for Whitaker. As the 


years rolled on, his house was slowly filled with Turner's 
work ; even as lately as 1 870 there were ten thousand 
pounds' worth of his water-colour drawings and oil pic- 
tures still left. The painter shot, fished, played with the 
children, and made drawings of the picnic parties and 
the grouse shooting, the house and the estate, the oak- 
panelled study and the white drawing-room, the Crom- 
well relics and the conservatory. 

One day, returning from a frolic, the painter insisted 
on driving home, tandem, over some rough country, and 
upset the cart, after which he was known as "Overturner" 
in the family. Some writers have made out that our 
genius was gloomy and misanthropic, but, if we are to 
believe the members of the Fawkes' household. Turner 
was full of fun and high spirits. 

In 181 1 there was Mercury and Herse^ with a quota- 
tion from Ovid; Apollo killing the Python, a wonder- 
fully suggested monster, writhing and coiling round the 
masses of rock, which it grinds to dust in its death 
agony, whilst the Sun God watches calmly the effect of 
his arrows — quite a sombre composition, like The Jason^ 
or The Garden of Hesperides, with the grandeur that 
only Turner could give. 

There was a picture of Chryses, with some lines 
from Pope's " Iliad"; Sovier Hill; Whalley Bridge and 
Abbey; Windsor Park, with horses by Gilpin, R.A.; 
November; Flou7ider Fishing; May ; Chickens, and Scar- 
borough Town and Castle. When the exhibition was 
hung, Turner found that a picture by a young artist 
called Bird had somehow been crowded out. He went 



to the other members of the hanging committee, and 
reminded them of the forgotten work, insisting that it 
was too good to reject. To this they all agreed, but de- 
clined to unhang the wall again. Turner had one more 
good look at Bird's picture, and then he went to one of 
his own of the same size, and, taking it down, hung the 
young artist's picture in its place. How many of us 
would have done as much? 

One stormy day at Farnley, says young Mr. Fawkes, 
" Turner called to me loudly from the doorway, ' Haw- 
key! Hawkey! Come here! Come here! Look at this 
thunderstorm — Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it sublime?' 
All the time he was making notes of its form and colour 
on the back of a letter. I proposed some better drawing 
block, but he said it did very well. He was absorbed; 
he was entranced. There was the storm rolling, and 
sweeping, and shafting out, its lightning over the York- 
shire hills. Presently the storm passed, and he finished. 
* There, Hawkey,' said he, ' in two years you will see this 
again, and call it Hannibal crossing the Alps''' 

In due time the picture was painted, and a magnificent 
work it proved. The storm forms a vast arch right 
across the sky, and through it the sun shines in a 
sickly manner, on the hard-pressed Carthaginian army, 
dimly suggested, winding through a rocky valley. This 
was the first time that Turner quoted some lines from 
that long, rambling, unpublished poem he called " The 
Fallacies of Hope": 

Craft, treachery, and fraud — Salassian force, 
Hung on the fainting rear ! then Plunder seized 


The victor and the captive — Saguntum's spoil, 
Alike became their prey; still the chief advanced. 
Looked on the sun with hope; low, broad, and wan. 
While the fierce archer of the downward year 
Stains Italy's blanch'd barrier with storms. 
In vain each pass ensanguined deep with dead. 
Or rocky fragments, wide destruction roU'd, 
Still on Campania's fertile plains he thought, 
But the loud breeze sobbed, Capua's joys beware. 

For nearly forty years this poem went on, and at 
intervals Turner would put some lines from it to one of 
his pictures in the catalogues of the exhibitions — some- 
times it was classic, at others quite topical. It treated of 
every possible subject from the Deluge, to Napoleon at 
St. Helena. It was quite characteristic of Turner in its 
mystery. I doubt if the poet himself could have ex- 
plained the meaning of some parts of it— they are won- 
derfully obscure, and often without rhyme. But now and 
then, reading down the page of halting verse, one comes 
to a line which suggests in a dim fashion some grand 
image, or, perhaps, a thought which would have been 
magnificent if the writer had only been capable of ex- 
pressing it in suitable words. 

In the National Gallery there are twenty thousand 
drawings and studies painted by Turner — some directly 
from nature, and left just as they were done; others, per- 
haps, recollections of passing effects or schemes, to be 
carried out at some future time. These are of all periods, 
from the rude scrawl of the boy of twelve, youthful 
attempts to wrestle with the difficulties of rendering 

'> o-crt> 


Gothic windows, Norman castles, or Corinthian porti- 
coes, on to imitations of Salvator Rosa or Poussin. 
^J\ Many of these are quite inartistic, but if we go on to 
later work we may discover how power slowly came to 
the patient, ever striving student. There are scraps of 
memoranda of all sorts of detail, attitudes of figures at 
work, vessels under way or at anchor, carts and horses, 
sheep and pigs, life studies from the nude, branches of 
trees, some of them treated in quite a conventional 
drawing-master fashion. Indeed, to the very last. Turner 
always painted and drew the copybook tree of his early 
days. Then there are jottings of effects or arrangements, 
of light and shade in bewildering variety, now and then, 
one of them may have jet black for shadows, and clean 
white paper for lights. A great many are drawn in pen 
and ink, as though Turner, in his search for the marrow 
of his subject, had determined to draw with the fewest 
possible lines. Often a sketch is drawn across two 
sheets of a book, and on the back of each sheet there 
may be more sketches, some upside down, and others 
right way up, the drawings so interlaced that it is diffi- 
cult to say which is which. One can fancy the blunt 
old painter striding round the country with his great 
blue umbrella, stopping whenever anything took his 
fancy to make a note (sometimes a mere hieroglyphic 
scribble, at other times a more elaborate drawing), but 
always full of character. 

In the autobiography of Cyrus Redding there are 
several descriptions of little journeys with Turner about 
Devonshire. One trip was to Bur Island in a half-decked 



boat; the excuse was to eat lobsters fresh from the 
sea. It was blowing hard. " We mounted the ridges 
bravely; the artist enjoyed the scene. He sat in the 
stern sheets, intently watching the sea, and not at all 
affected by the motion." Then there is a description of 
the seasick passengers and the heavy surf. ..." All 
this time Turner was silent, watching the tumultuous 
scene — the little island and the solitary hut it held, the 
bay, in the bight of which it lay, and the dark long Bolt 
Head to seaward against the rocky shore of which the 
waves broke with fury, made the artist become absorbed 
in contemplation, not uttering a syllable. While the 
shell-fish were preparing. Turner with a pencil clambered 
nearly to the summit of the Island and seemed writing 
rather than drawing. How he succeeded, owing to the 
violence of the wind, I do not know." 

There was also a picnic at Mount Edgcumbe, which 
was given by Turner in excellent taste. " The donor of 
the feast, too, was agreeable, terse, blunt, almost epi- 
grammatic at times, but always pleasant for one not 
given to waste his words, nor studious of refined bear- 
ing." In one place he was much struck, took a sketch, 
and when it was done, said : " We shall see nothing 
finer than this if we stay till Sunday; because we can't." 

It was to the honour of several of the inhabitants of 
Plymouth that boats, horses, and tables were ready for 
his usC; during the time he remained. Everybody felt 
that in paying him attention they were honouring a 
most extraordinary genius, whose artistic merit had not 
been exaggerated. Among other places, Turner was 


invited to Saltram ; the house was full of pictures, but 
it was not possible to get him to express any opinion 
regarding them. At last he came to Stubb's picture of 
Phaeton and the Horses of the Sun, and came out with 
the monosyllable, " Fine! " 

" Turner in retiring to rest had to pass my bed-room 
door, and I remarked to him that its walls were covered 
with paintings by Angelica Kauffman — ' nymphs and 
men like nymphs as effeminate as possible.' . . . He 
wished me ' Good-night in your seraglio! ' " 

Here is another description of a trip in which a party 
had reached the head of the Tamar. Turner was much 
struck with the bridge. The party consisted of four. To 
go down the river in the night was impracticable on 
account of the mud banks. The vehicle would only hold 
two. There was an inn, but no beds could be obtained. 
Turner said he would rather stay, would anyone volunteer 
with him? " I volunteered. Our friends drove off, and 
the painter and myself soon adjourned to the miserable 
little inn. Very good bread and cheese were produced, 
and the home-brewed suited Turner, who expatiated upon 
his success with a degree of excitement which, with his 
usual dry, short mode of expressing his feelings, could 
hardly be supposed. I found the artist could, when he 
pleased, make sound, pithy, though somewhat caustic 
remarks upon men and things with a fluency rarely heard 
from him. We talked much of the Academy, and he 
admitted that it was not all it might be made with 
regard to art. The ' clock that ticked against the wall ' 
sounded twelve; I proposed to go to sleep. Turner, 


leaning his elbows upon the table, and putting his feet 
upon a second chair, took a position sufficiently easy and 
fell asleep. . . . 

" Before six in the morning he rose and went down 
towards the river. . . . Turner sketched the bridge, but 
appeared from where I stood to be changing his position 
several times, as if he had tried more than one sketch 
and could not please himself as to the best point. I saw 
that bridge and a part of the scene afterwards in a 
painting in his gallery. He had made several additions 
to the scenery . . . and, if I remember rightly, he had 
introduced into it some of the fictitious characters of the 
heathen mythology." 

In 1812 Turner moved to a house in Queen Anne X., >^a*4Cit /I 
Street, W., close to Portland Place. He had a picture 
gallery, and soon gathered together a collection of his 
own work. No doubt at first these were merely his un- 
sold pictures hung upon the walls of the dingy, untidy 
room. As time went on, he added some very fine 
examples — some bought at sales, others exchanged or 
bartered with his patrons. His gallery at last became his 
hobby. The rain ran through the skylight and soaked 
the walls, but he was always adding to his treasures 
though the damp and dirt played sad havoc with them. 
In the Royal Academy this year he exhibited a View of 
the Castle of St. Michael^ near Bonneville, Savoy ; View 
of the High Street^ Oxford; and another view of the town 
from the Abingdon Road; also the Hannibal, before 
mentioned. Then there were engravings of Fountains 
Abbey, and parts 8, 9, and 10 of the " Liber Studiorum." 


'^'f- In the 1813 exhibition there was the Frosty Morning, 
a brown, thinly-painted picture. Some horses and carts, 
with figures, stand by the roadside under the bare 
branches of some mean trees. I fancy this must have 
changed a good deal, for there is now no trace of the 
hoar frost, the painting of which made such a sensation 
at the time. Archdeacon Fisher, writing to Constable in 
praise of one of his pictures, said : " I only like one better, 
and that is a picture of pictures — The Frost, by Turner. 
But there! you need not repine at this decision of mine. 
You are a great man and, like Bonaparte, are only to be 
beaten by a frost." 

Besides this there was a picture of TJie Deluge, perhaps 
the one now in the National Gallery. 

In 1 8 14 Turner, besides his house in town, bought a 
little place at Twickenham, which he at first called Solus 
Lodge and afterwards Sandycombe. He designed the 
doorway himself. His old father used to dig in the 
garden and look after the household. Here they soon 
got to know the Vicar of Heston, who was very fond of 
pictures, and even undertook to teach Turner Greek in 
return for lessons in painting. We hear, however, that 
the painter floundered sadly in the verbs and never made 
any real progress. At last, after trying hard for some 
time, he said : " I fear I must give it up. Trimmer. You 
get on better with your painting than I do with my 

The young Trimmers, who were still living when 
Thornbury wrote his " Life of Turner," remembered him 
as an ugly, slovenly, old man, and described how he made 


them laugh, and how pleasant and sociable he was. From 
their descriptions we can picture the life at Sandycombe, 
and the whole surroundings of the place — the garden 
running down to the Thames, where the summer house 
stood in which some of the best pictures were painted ; 
the boys who came bird-nesting, and against whom 
Turner waged war, and in revenge was named Black- 1 
birdy; the square pond dug by himself, covered with 
water lilies, and filled with trout brought from the Brent 
in a can ; and also the pike that got among them ; the 
fishing expeditions with Chantrey the sculptor; the boat ! 
kept at Richmond, and the large canvases painted in her 
direct from nature. In the judgment of the boys these 
last were his very finest productions — " No re-touching, 
every thing firml}- in its place." Then the gig and the 
quadruped — Old Crop Ear, a cross between a horse and 
a pony, which sat for the horses in the Frosty Morning', 
Turner was very happy in catching the stiff look of the 
fore legs. There were sketching trips in the gig, and 
the boys said that Turner painted faster than he drove, 
and they remembered walking with him by the river side, 
under the blaze of the great comet. 

In the house itself everything was very modest. Two- 
pronged forks, knives with large ends, and earthenware in 
strict keeping. " I remember," says young Mr. Trimmer, 
" Turner saying one day, ' Old Dad, have you not any 
wine?' Turner senior produced a bottle of currant 

" Queen Anne Street was just as homely. You were 
always welcome to what he had, and if it was near 


dinner time he always pressed you to stay and brought 
out cake and wine. The cake he would good-naturedly 
stuff into my pockets." 

" When he called on me once, he spoke with rapture 
of a picture of, I think, Poussin's Jonah Cast on Shore^ 
calling it a wonderful picture, and dispatching us to see 
it. I have heard him speak most enthusiastically in 
praise of Gainsborough's execution, and Wilson's tone, 
and he plainly thought himself their inferior. We were 
one day looking at a Vanderveld, and on some one ob- 
serving, ' I think you could go beyond that,' he shook 
his head and said, ' I can't paint like him.' " 

The following letter is said to be an offer of marriage. 
Turner was about forty, and the lady mentioned was a 
relation of the Trimmers. 

Queen Anne Street. 

Tuesday, August ist, 1815. 

My Dear Sir, 

I lament that all hope of the pleasure of seeing you 
or getting to Hasten must for the present probably vanish. 
My father told me on Saturday last when I was as usual 
compelled to return to town the same day, that you and 
Mrs. Trimmer would leave Heston for Suffolk as to-morrow, 
Wednesday. In the first place I am glad to hear that her 
health is so far established as to be equal to the journey, and 
to give me your utmost hope for her benefiting by the sea air 
being fully realised; Twill give me great pleasure to hear, and 
the earlier the better. 

After next Tuesday, if you have a moment's time to spare, 
a line will reach me at Farnley Hall, near Otley, Yorkshire, 
and for some time, as Mr. Fawkes talks of keeping me in the 


North by a trip to the Lakes, and until November; therefore 
I suspect I am not to see Sandycombe. Sandycombe sounds 
just now in my ears as an act of folly when I reflect how little 
I have been able to be there this year and less chance perhaps 
for the next. In looking forward to a continental excursion, 
and poor Daddy seems as much plagued with weeds as I am 
with disappointment — that if Miss would but waive bash- 
fulness, or in other words make an offer instead of expecting 
one, the same might change occupiers; but not to trouble you 
further allow me with most sincere respect to Mrs. Trimmer 
and family, to consider myself 

Your most truly obliged, 

J. M. W. Turner. 

I leave my reader to guess whether the painter meant 
this letter to be taken as an intimation that Barkis was 
willing. Whichever way the words were intended to be 
understood matters little now, the lady did not " waive 
bashfulness," or " make an offer," and Turner continued 
to the end a lonely old bachelor. 

In 1814, "Cooke's Southern Coast "was begun with 
St. MicliaeVs Mott?it, Pool; Land's End; Weymoiith; 
Lulworth Cove, and Coj'fe Castle; these engravings were 
published almost every year until 1816. There were 
many misunderstandings and quarrels with the pub- 
lisher. Seven pounds ten was the price originally paid 
for each drawing, but eventually the amount was raised 
to ten pounds. The letterpress of the " Coast " was written 
by W. Combe, the author of " Dr. Syntax." Turner tried 
his hand at a description of St. Michael's Mount. Here 
is a letter about it: 


Friday afternoon. 
My Dear Sir, 

I am really concerned to be obliged to say that 

Mr. T s account is the most extraordinary composition I 

have ever read. It is impossible for me to connect it, for in 
some parts I do not understand it. The punctuation is every- 
where defective, and here I have done what I could, and have 
sent the proofs to Mr. Bulmer. I think the revises should be 

sent to Mr. T to request his attention to the whole, and 

particularly the part that I have marked as unintelligible. In 
my private opinion it is scarcely an admissible article in its 
present state; but as he has signed his name to it he will be 
liable to the sole blame for its imperfections 

Your faithful humble servant 

W. C. 

There is another letter later asking Cooke, if he does 

not mean to drive Mr. T stark staring mad, to get 

two uncorrected sheets from Mr. Bulmer. 

Turner and Carew, the sculptor, were once fishing in a 
pond at Petworth; said the latter: "Turner, they tell 
me you're very rich." Turner chuckled and said, " Am 
I?" "Yes, everybody says so." "Ah!" replied he, "I 
would give it all up again to be twenty years of age 
again." This year he had only one picture in the 
Academy, Dido and yEfteas, with a quotation from 
Dryden. There was also one at the British Institution, 
Apuleia in Search of Apileius. These were the stirring 
times of the last phases of the Peninsular War, the 
retreat from Moscow, the battles of Leipsic, Orthes, 
Toulouse, the surrender of Paris, and the abdication of 

Haii/sttiiigi fihoto] 



In 1815, Turner exhibited Bligh Sand, near Sheerness. 
A fleet of Thames shrimpers is beating to windward, 
close to a spit of mud, marked by a buoy. The sun is just 
breaking through the black clouds at the top of the pic- 
ture, and yet its rays are twisted back in characteristic 
Turner fashion, so that the light is shining full on the 
sails of the distant shrimpers. The colour is little more 
than black and brown, but the sky is very fine, and 
space is well suggested. 

Crossing the Brook was evidently worked out from the 
sketches made in Devonshire with Cyrus Redding. 
Though the colour is so pale as to be little more than 
monochrome, there is a most perfect rendering of a . ^ -, 
beautiful river, winding away for miles and miles through 'T >/? 
rolling hills and valleys, until at last in the haze it 
reaches the sea, which is only suggested. A great white 
summer cloud rises into the gray sky, magnificently 
drawn and modelled, and in the foreground is a group of 
trees painted in the conventional drawing-master fashion 
of the period, but nevertheless exactly suited to their 
semi-classic surroundings. Space and distance have never 
been more finely suggested. 

My friend Mr. David Murray was once painting in an -v<-^ 
orchard at Dittisham on the Dart, a picture he after- ■u\n^ 
wards called All adown a Devon Valley, when an old 
man came up to watch the progress of the work, and, 
after a while, getting into conversation, he told how 
when he was a boy, a little man, with a tiny water-colour 
box and sketch book, had painted the very same view, 
and had given him sixpence for holding a great blue 


umbrella over him whilst he worked. His whole atten- 
tion seemed concentrated on his sketch, and he paid no 
heed to the drizzle which was falling all the time. The 
boy found out afterwards that this was the great Turner. 
" Well," said Murray, " I would have given much more 
than sixpence to have been allowed to hold that blue 

Up to this time the master had only used colour very 
sparingly, and all shadows had been painted with black 
or brown, but in Dido Building Carthage, or the Rise of 
the Carthaginean Empire, we may see the first attempt 
to break with the old traditions. Turner himself 
evidently considered this to be his best picture, for 
though he talked of being rolled up in it and buried, 
with Carthage for a winding sheet, yet he had made up 
his mind that it should be bequeathed to his country, to 
be hung between two Claudes in the National Gallery. 
The subject is treated in quite a conventional manner ; 
it would seem as though Turner had looked at the 
Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba, and had taken it, bit 
by bit, determined to outdo it in every part. In each 
picture the setting sun shines right in the middle. There 
are in each the same tall Renaissance columns, and little 
groups of figures. Perhaps it was when Turner set out 
to wrestle for a fall with Claude that he began to think 
of putting more colour into his pictures ; for T)ie Queen 
of Sheba and The Marriage of Isaac and Rebecca, which 
hang on each side of the Carthage, are by no means 
colourless. We must admit that it was a bold thing to 
attempt to go one better than the old master in his own 


manner, and on his own classic ground ; and in spite of 
Turner's much greater power I somehow feel that Claude, 
who was not trying to imitate anyone, but was only 
striving to render nature in his own childlike, simple 
way, has rather the best of the battle. 

I have heard two musicians play a nocturne by Chopin. 
The first one not a great performer, but a sympathetic 
toiler, thinking only of the melody. The second, one of 
those brilliant executants who could do nothing that 
was not absolutely right, strummed away, thinking only 
of the cleverness of the performer. 

Of course there is some splendid work in the Carthage. 
The painting of the galleys, hauled up in the misty dis- 
tance, is as fine as anything Turner has done. In spite 
of this, however, there is ever such a slight suggestion 
of the drop scene in the conventionality of the treat- 
ment, which somehow reminds me of the brilliant but 
uninteresting player. 

Another picture, this busy year of the hundred days, 
and of the crowning victory of Waterloo, was The Battle 
of Fort Rock. It had a long quotation from the " Falla- 
cies of Hope" MS. 

The snow capt mountain, and huge towers of ice. 
Thrust forth their dreary barriers in vain; 
Onward the van progressive forced its way, 
Propelled; as the wild Reuss by native glacers fed, 
Rolls on impetuous, with every check gains force 
By the constraint upraised; till to its gathering powers 
All yielding down the pass wide devastation pours 
Her own destructive course. Thus rapine stalked 


Triumphant; and plundering hordes exulting strew'd, 
Fair Italy thy plains with woe. 

There were also The Eruption of the Souffrur Moun- 
tain in the Island of St. Vincent at Midnight, on the 
2,0th of April, 1812; from a sketch taken at the time by 
Hugh P. Kean, Esq.: The Passage of Moufit St. Gothard^ 
taken frotn the centre of the Teufels Briick : The Great 
Fall of the Rieckenbach; and The Lake of Lucerne, from 
the Landing-place at Fluelen. 

The peace which closed the great war with France 
did not usher in a time of prosperity. There was a debt 
of eight hundred millions, and the taxes were very 
heavy. Bad harvests, the disbanding of a great mass of 
men, and the stagnation of trade caused riots and a 
rapid increase of crime and ruin, and men were hanged 
in those good old days for very little; sheep stealing 
was quite enough to bring a thief to the gallows. 

In 1 8 16 Turner exhibited two pictures of The Temple 
of fupiter Panhellenius; one restored and the other taken 
from a sketch by H. Gully Knight, Esq. The following 
year he showed Tlie Decline of the Carthaginiafi Empire. 

At Hope's delusive smile, 
The chieftain's safety and the mother's pride 
Were to the insidious conqueror's grasp resign'd; 
While o'er the western wave th' ensanguined sun, 
In gathering haze, a stormy signal spread, 
And set portentous. 

In the exhibition of 18 1 8 Raby Castle; Dort or Dor- 
drecht; The Packet Boat from Rotterdam becalmed; The 

Field of Waterloo: 


The earth is covered thick with other clay, 
Which her own clay shall cover heaped and pent, 
Rider and horse — friend, foe, in one red burial blent. 

and a Landscape : Composition of Tivoli. 

The engraving for the "Southern Coast" continued, and 
in 1 8 19 Whitaker's " History of Richmondshire " begins. 

In the Academy there was that grand picture. Entrance 
of the Mense — Orang Merchantman on the bar going to 
pieces^ Brill Church bearing S.E. by S., Marenshcys, E. 
by S.; now in the National Gallery, and also Richmond 
Hill on Prince Regent's Birthday. The grass and trees 
are very brown, but the short-waisted ladies with their 
■ beaux are gracefully suggested. This year the last part 
of the " Liber Studiorum " appeared : The East Gate, 
Winchelsea ; Isis ; Ben Arthur ; Interior of a Church; and 
The Woman of Samaria. After this the work came to 
an end, with the remaining twenty plates still unpub- 

Turner must have paid a visit to Italy as well as 
Holland, for besides the view of Tivoli he now shows, in 
1820, Rome from the Vatican — Raffaelle accompanied by 
La Fornarina, preparing his pictures for the decoration of 
the Loggia. This is a very unfortunate choice of subject, 
for Turner, in his efforts to squeeze in as much of Rome 
and St. Peter's as possible, has taken such a wide angle 
view that the whole looks distorted. He made a number 
of drawings from sketches taken in Italy by means of 
the camera obscura for " Hakewell's Picturesque Italy"; 
Some of his finest work was done for "The History of 
Richmond," Ingleborough; High Force; Kerby Lonsdale; 




Churchyard; Wy cliff; and Xht Junction of the Greta and 

In Sir Walter Scott's company Turner went to several 
of the scenes of his poems : Smallholm Craigs, Jedburgh, 
Asheshel, Carlisle, Newark, and Edinburgh. Scott told 
the painter that the habit of lying here on the turf 
among the sheep and lambs when a lame boy, had 
given his mind a peculiar tenderness for those animals. 

Turner also stayed with Mr. Thomson, of Duddings- 
ton in Edinburgh, and, on leaving, pressed the reverend 
artist to return the compliment if he ever came to Lon- 
don. This Mr. Thomson unexpectedly did. Turner in- 
vited his visitor to dine. A day was fixed, but it hap- 
pened that in the course of the day Thomson called 
upon a nobleman who also asked him to dine. He 
pleaded that he was engaged to Turner, but the noble- 
man directed Thomson to bring Turner with him. The 
artist accordingly was waited on, and accepted after a 
little demur : " Well, if I must, I s'pose I must, but — " 
Before he had time to complete the sentence, his father, 
who had been listening while preparing a canvas for his 
son, exclaimed: "Go, Billy, go; the mutton needn't be 
cooked, Billy." 

Among the four hundred framed drawings kept in the 
cases on the ground floor of the National Gallery, a good 
many of the Italian sketches may be ascribed to this 
period. They have been, for the most part, painted 
direct from nature, and were left without subsequent 
touching up. 

It is a perfect education to go through these one by 



one, and in them to follow the master in his wanderings. 
Among them are most exquisite records, like that of 
Tivoli, drawn with the utmost perfection of dainty skill. 
All the little towers, roofs, and garden walls perched on 
the jutting rock, half hidden in trees and shrubs, sug- 
gested with the most loving tenderness. The sky is 
washed in with only a few touches, but each mark 
seems to be absolutely right, the wooded valley stretch- 
ing away for miles to the pale mountains just visible; 
all suggested in the very simplest way, just put in straight 
and left. 

Then there are some of the Roman Campagna with 
the winding Tiber and the Alban Hill, old broken aque- 
ducts standing up out of the dried-up grass. 

A perfect outline drawing is that one of the palace of 
the mad Queen Joanna, half surrounded by the sea, and 
in the distance the piled up houses clustered thick upon 
the steep sides of St. Elmo. 

There are quite a number of sketches of the half- 
ruined buildings of Naples, perched in delightful con- 
fusion among the cypresses and palms under the quiet 
volcano which pours out a soft column of white steam 
straight into the still air. 

In other drawings Capri rises jagged and torn from 
the waters of the bay. It is just as though we were 
looking at the very scene itself These are but a few 
taken almost at hazard from this treasure house. No 
one who has not gone through the works painted face 
to face with nature can have a notion of the greatness 
of Turner. 


When any picture of Turner's came up at Christie's, 
the artist used to send some one to bid for it, to add to 
his collection, or if that was not possible, at any rate to 
keep it from going too cheap. One day when the bidding 
was brisk, a clean, ruddy-cheeked butcher boy in blue 
made several advances of £$ before Mr. Christie noticed 
him : at last he was asked for his authority, and produced 
a note from the artist instructing the strange emissary to 
try to get the picture. 

In 1 82 1 Turner did not exhibit any pictures, but six 
engravings appeared in Whitaker's " History of Rich- 
mondshire," Aste Hall; High Tore; Brignols Church; 
The Crook of Lune; Kirkby Lonsdale Churchyard ; and 
WcatJiercote Cave. 

In the "Southern Coast" there were Lulworth Castle; 
Torbay froni BrixJiam; and Minehead. 

Next year he had one small picture, WJiat You Will. 
There were seven more plates in the " Richmondshire 
History": St. Agatha's Abbey ; Eggleston Abbey ; Mar- 
rick Abbey; Sivuner Lake; Mossdale Fall, Ingleborough; 
Hornby Castle ; and Hey sham and Camberland Mounts. 

1823 brought that wonderful work The Bay of Baiae, 
with Apollo and the Sibyl. Only eight years before, the 
Crossing the Brook was painted in little more than black, 
brown, and palest blue, and now Turner has thrown aside 
the inky shadows and cold gray skies, and has burst out 
in a perfect blaze of splendid colour. 

Years ago, when I was a student at the old Academy 
schools in Trafalgar Square, I used to stroll out at the 
luncheon hour, or after closing time, to have a look at the 


Old Masters in the National Gallery next door. Some- 
how my feet always seemed to carry me to this, my 
favourite picture at that time. 

I think the blue sea breaking gently on the sandy 
shore is one of the most perfect of Turner's visions of 
Italy. The little jetty, the fishing boats, the castle, and 
the volcanic hills thickly wooded and piled ridge beyond 
ridge as they pale into the haze, are all most splendidly 
painted; the ruins half hidden in vines and long trailing 
creepers are well done, and take their places in the 
scheme. There are thin rich glazes and strong yellows 
in the foreground, and two very conventional stone pines 
which throw a most unnatural dark shadow right across 
the foreground. The Sibyl, holding up the cryptic hand- 
ful of sand to Apollo as a request for many years of life, 
is painted quite carelessly; indeed, one would almost 
fancy that the whole of the near objects were forced up 
in that rich, juicy fashion, merely to drive back the 
delicate middle distance and enhance its beauty. There 
is no doubt that it does produce that effect, for if you 
shut out that part of the composition with your hand, 
the rest of the picture suffers, though the foreground is 
nothing by itself. By the way, the Cumaen Sib}-1 was 
seven hundred years old and quite bent and wrinkled 
when the pious ^neas first came to Italy. It is char- 
acteristic of Turner that she should be represented quite 
young and buxom, with the ruins of the baths of Nero, 
the sixteenth-century castle at Baja, and the Monte 
Nuovo, which was onl)- upheaved in 1538, as a back- 
ground. One peculiarity of the artist's which has been 


noticed is that the further branches on the trees are 
painted pale and faint, as though they were fronds of 
seaweed seen through muddy water. I have no doubt 
that this was purposely done to produce an illusion and 
to make the spectator fancy that the back part of the 
foliage was really away in the distance. In these days, 
when stern realism is the fashion, to us moderns this 
sort of artifice seems a little strained. 

It had in the catalogue a quotation from " The Fallacies 
of Hope": 

Waft me to sunny Baiae's shore. 

After the picture returned from the exhibition, it hung 
in Turner's dusty studio, where it must have looked 
quite like a window opened in the wall to which contem- 
porary artists likened it. 

Jones, who admired the work, was discussing its merits 
with a traveller who had been to the spot and found that 
the real locality had been rather freely treated, or, as 
Thornbury puts it, " Half the scene was sheer invention." 
This is not quite the fact, for the Baiae is more topo- 
graphical than most of Turner's pictures. Jones took 
a bit of chalk and wrote across the frame " Splendide 
Mendax,"but Turner only laughed, and the joke remained 
for years, for it was never effaced. 
^, L^^V Mn 1824 the British National Gallery of pictures was 
'■"^yTl^ founded by the purchase of the collection of John Julius 
Angerstein's thirty-eight pictures, nine of them by British 
artists. This, the nucleus of the present exhibition in 
Trafalgar Square, was secured to the nation by a grant 


^ > 

- < 

■r, o 


of Parliament made in April. Afterwards Sir George ^--''7 ^^-"^^ 
Beaumont gave sixteen pictures, including five by British '<^^^^^Mwi 
artists. At a meeting at Somerset House, attended by , 
Sir Robert Peel, Lord Harding, and many noted men, it j 
was decided to buy two pictures of Turner and to present \ 
them to the National Gallery. A memorial was drawn i 
up and Turner's old friend Griffiths was asked to present ! 
it. The offer was ^^"5,000 for the two pictures, The Rise^-^ ■■'- ^'^ 
of Carthage (the Dido) and The Decline of the Carthaginian ^^ •'' ^ 
EjHpire — " Rome being determined on the overthrow of 
her hated rival, demanded from her such terms as might 
either force her into war or ruin her by compliance. The 
enervated Carthaginians, in their anxiety for peace, con- 
sented to give up even their arms and their children." 

Griffiths took the memorial, and when Turner had 
read it, "his eyes brightened," says Thornbury; "he 
was deeply moved, even to tears, for he was capable of 
intense feeling. He expressed his pride and delight at 
such a noble offer from such men. But his eye caught 
the word Carthage and he exclaimed sternly: 'No, no, - 
they shall not have it'; and upon Griffiths turning to 
go, he called out after him: 'Oh, Griffiths! make my 
compliments to the memorialists and tell them Carthage 
may some day become the property of the nation.' The 
picture, it is said, was originally painted for ;i^ioo, and 
the buyer had declined to take it when the critics and 
the press began to attack it." At any rate, the painter 
must now have felt much gratified ; he went about saying 
to himself, " This is a great triumph! " | 

Turner always meant his pictures of the Carthaginian 



Empire to be typical of Great Britain in its war with 
France. He intended the fate of the enervated, luxurious 
citizens to be an awful warning to his countrymen of 
what might befall them if they gave way to slothfulness 
and ease; Imperial France, of course, was a personifica- 
tion of old Rome. 

Next year Turner exhibited no picture, but he was 
very busy making water-colours for the engravers. 
W. B. Cooke's " Rivers of England " came out with 
mezzotints of Totnes; Dartmouth; Dartmouth Castle; 
Stangatc Creek; Rochester; Warkworth; Kh'k stall Abbey ; 
Kirkstall Lock; Norham; Newcastle; Shields; Brougham 
Castle; Arundel; Moore Park; Mouth of the Huuiber; and 
Okehampton. Then there were Margate; Rye; Clovelly; 
Hythe; Ramsgate; and St. Maues: for the " Southern 
Coast," also published by Cooke. Ehrenbreitstein; drawn 
in 1 8 19, from the quay at Coblentz, during the demoli- 
tion of the fortress, was also, with the Eddystone Light- 
house ; published this year. 

In 1825 the Harbour of Dieppe {Changment de Domi- 
cile); was exhibited at the Academy; and Brighton; Bos- 
castle; and Combe Martin; published in the " Southern 
Coast." Seven drawings were done for Murray's edition 
of Lord Byron's Works, some of them from sketches by 
Allison — TJie Temple of Minerva; Cape Colofina; Tombe 
of Cecilia Metella; Negroponte; Acropolis of Athens; 
Malta; Rhodes; and the Drachenfels. 

This year his great patron and friend, Mr. F'awkes, 
died. Turner was very much affected, and though often 
invited, would never go to Farnley again as he could not 



1 1 



bear to visit his old haunts, the scenes of so many inno- 
cent pleasures and jollifications. Some years before 
Turner had been up the Rhine, and on his return he had 
landed at Hull, and had come straight on to Farnley, 
where he produced from the breast pocket of his great 
coat a roll of fifty-three drawings, perfect little sug- 
gestions of nature, though painted at the rate of three 
a day. 

Mr. Fawkes bought the whole for ;^500; years after- 
wards his son, Hawkesworth, brought the set up to the 
dismal house in Queen Ann Street to show to their 
creator. The old man turned them over until he came 
to one — TiviligJit in the Lorelei, a gray, dim drawing, 
with one or two specks of light from craft on the river. 
His eyes filled with tears, and he could only say: "But, 
Hawkey ! but, Hawkey ! " He was thinking of old happy 
days and the friend gone for ever. For twenty-four long 
years one of those famous Yorkshire goose-pies was 
regularly sent from Farnley to Turner, Just before 
Christmas, 185 1, the twenty-fifth was packed and ready, 
when news reached Yorkshire that the famous painter 
had gone to his long rest. 

Farnley is full of mementos of the painter. There is 
the Two-decker taking in Stores, drawn from memor)-, 
to show a lady, who had never seen one, what a line-of- 
battleship looked like. This was done in three hours, 
and Ruskin looked upon it as a miracle of memory and 
observation, though I must confess, that with all the 
practice and experience that Turner had, it does not 
seem at all wonderful that he should have been able to 

74 r-IFE OF J. M. W. TURNER 

draw what he knew by heart. There were birds that he 
had shot and then painted. There were views on the 
Wharfe, the old porch flower garden, the dairy, the oak 
room, old staircase, the study, and a hundred other 
records, some done with loving care and others rougher 
jottings. Last, there is a caricature of Turner himself, 
drawn by Mr. Fawkes, which was thought by old friends 
to be very like, " a little Jewish-nosed man in an ill-cut 
brown tail coat, striped waistcoat, and enormous frilled 
shirt, the feet and hands notably small, sketching on a 
small piece of paper, held down almost level with his 
waist." Once Mr. Fawkes had been driving over the 
Simplon Pass when he met a well-known little thick-set 
man, walking with no luggage except a large faded um- 
brella. It was the original of his caricature. 

In the exhibition of 1826 there was Cologne: the Ar- 
rival of a Packet Boat — Evening; Forum Romanimi ; 
for Mr. Soame's museum. The Seat of Willia^n Moffatt^ 
Esq., Mortlake — Early Summer, morning. 

There is a story told of the Cologne, which is quite 
characteristic of Turner, and shows how tender-hearted 
he was. 
j^""^ This picture, remarkable for a very brilliant sky, hap- 
pened to be hung next to two portraits by Lawrence, 
which not being painted in so high a key were very 
much injured by the juxtaposition. Sir Thomas was in 
despair; the works that had looked so bright in his 
studio now seemed dull and earthy. Turner listened, and 
at last got to work on his sky. He took some water-colour 
lamp-black and went all over it. " Why, Turner, what 


have you done to your picture?" said a friend, who had 
seen it before the alteration. " Oh! it's all right; it will 
all wash off after the close of the exhibition. And poor 
Lawrence was so unhappy." This is the man who has 
been accused of greed and rapacity. He was so consci- 
entious that when he caught a fish that was at all under- 
sized he would always appeal to some bystander to 
know if it ought not to be put back in the river. 

Stanfield had painted a seapiece, which he called 
Throwing the Painter, but he was not able to get it 
finished in time for the exhibition, so Callcott facetiously 
called his Missing the Painter. Next year Turner, who 
wanted to keep the joke up, painted a picture which he 
called Now for the Painter — passengers going on board. 
Detractors of the character of the artist have made out 
that Turner chose this title in a spirit of bombast, and 
that he wished to imply that he, Turner, was the real 
painter. But is this at all likely? Surely it was but a 
harmless bit of fun. The painter spoken of is the nautical 
term for the rope by which a boat is towed. The picture 
represents the entrance to Calais harbour. In the fore- 
front, bobbing in the lumpy water, is a round-sterned 
Dutch-looking boat, crowded with passengers and their 
luggage. One hand forward is stowing the sail, whilst 
the steersman, who has his helm hard a-port, waves his 
hand to a bluff-bowed, three-masted lugger, which seems 
to be luffing round to pick him up; for a man stands up 
in her by the mizzenmast with a heaving-line in his hand. 
I am afraid they are going to make a very clumsy job 
of getting alongside, for the head of the boat is at right 


angles to the course of the lugger, so even if the sailor 
in the tall hat does manage to get his painter aboard, 
there will be a terrible jerk when a turn is taken. 
Perhaps, however, the lugger will go round and make 
another shot, in which case the title should be Calcott's 
— Missing the Paititer. The sails of the chasse-mari^e 
are very badly set, and one wonders if she won't miss 
stays when the helm is put down. The sky is most 
beautiful — a great cumulus cloud crossed by light scud, 
darkens towards the north as though rain might soon 
come on. In those days vessels could not get into 
Calais at low water, and passengers had to be brought 
off or landed in small boats ; perhaps this is a recollection 
of one of Turner's journeys: I see the letters on the flag 
spell " Pas de Calais." 

In 1827 there was another picture of Mortlake Ter- 
race, seat of William Moffat t, Esq. — Evetiing. It is said 
that Turner thinking that some dark object was wanted 
in the foreground, cut a dog out in black paper, and 
stuck it on to try the effect, which was so good that he 
left it sticking there. Let us hope it remains to this 

The other pictures this year were A Scene in Derby- 
si lire — 

When first the sun with beacon red — 

Port Rnysdael; and Rembrandt's Daughter; which was 
afterwards hung at Petworth ; Dido directing the Equip- 
ment of the Fleet, or the Morning of the Carthaginian 
Empire came in 1828. The sun is in the middle of the 




picture, and under it is a shining path of glitter. There 
are the modern classic buildings, which were always intro- 
duced into Turner's Carthaginian subjects; the usual 
crowd of figures and the tall pine we know so well. I 
suppose it is as unlike the real Carthage as anything can 
be. Two pictures of East Cowes Castle, the seat of J. 
Nash, Esq.; The Regatta — Beating to Windward ; and 
The Regatta — Starting for their new Moorings; and a 
figure picture, Boccaccio Relating the Tale of the Bird- ^ . 
cage; painted in rivalry to Stothard. Leslie tells how 
Turner said he wished he could paint like him, saying >rt'f^oVl 
that he was the Giotto of England. . 

Turner went to Italy for the third time in the autumn 
of this year. Here is part of a letter to his friend Jones: 
"Genoa and all the sea coast, from Nice to Spezzia, is 
remarkably rugged and fine; so is Massa. Tell that fat 
fellow Chantrey, that I did think of him then (but not the 
first or the last time) of the thousands he had made out 
of these marble crags which only afforded me a sour 
bottle of wine and a sketch; but he deserves everything 
which is good, though he did give me a fit of the spleen 
at Carrara." 

Here is another letter, dated Rome, 6th November: 

My Dear Chantrey, 

I intended long before this (but you will say fudge) 
to have written; but even now, very little information have I 
to give you in matters of art, for I have confined myself to the 
painting department at Corso; and having finished one, am 
about the second, and getting on with Lord E's, which I began 
the very first touch at Rome; but as the folk here talked that 



I would show them «<?/, I finished a small three feet four to 
stop their gabbing — so now to business. 

Sculpture of course first, for it carries away all the patronage, 
so it is said, in Rome; but all seem to share in the goodwill of 
the patrons of the day. Gott's studio is full, Wyatt and Rennie, 
Ewing, Buxton, all employed. Gibson has two groups in hand, 
Femis and Cupid and the Rape of Hylas (three figures), very 
forward, though I doubt much if it will be in time (taking the 
long voyage into the scale) for the exhibition, though it is for 
England. Its style is something like The Fsyc/ie, being two 
standing figures of nymphs leaning enamoured over the youth- 
ful Hylas with his pitcher. The Venus is a sitting figure with 
the Cupid in attendance, and if it had wings like a dove to flee 
away and be at rest, the rest would not be the worse for the 
change. Thorwaldsten is closely engaged on the late Pope's 
Pius VII. monument. Portraits of the superior animal man is 
to be found in all. In some the inferior — viz. greyhounds and 
poodles, cats and monkeys, etc. etc. 

Pray give my remembrances to Jones and Stokes, and tell 
him I have not seen a bit of coal stratum for months. My love 
to Mrs. Chantrey and take the same and good wishes of yours 
most truly. 

J. M. W. Turner. 

The "three feet by four " was the beautiful View of Or- 
vieto, afterwards shown in the Academy and now in the 
National Gallery. The distant town, perched upon a rock, 
rising out of a valley bathed in sunlight, is most gorgeous 
in colour. It is quite like what one remembers to have 
seen on some evening when everything is at its best just 
before the sun sinks. The art with which the hills and 
wood-crowned knolls are made to fade away one beyond 
the other into space, is perfect. 



But there is the usual drawing-master tree, and the 
thin, unreal foreground one sees in so many of Turner's 
later pictures. It is as though he had cared nothing for 
the foreground itself, but merely painted it to throw back 
and keep in its place the superb middle distance, which I 
suppose was really all the painter tried for. Two sketchy 
women are washing linen at a very glazy, unsubstantial 
fountain, and there is a suggestion of vines and gourds, 
like such stuff as dreams are made of. Mr. Rippingille, 
who made inquiries in Rome as to the appreciation 
Turner met with there, did not find that his work was at 
all esteemed. There was an English tradesman living 
there, whose name was Turner. He sold English mus- 
tard, and the Roman jokers said that one Turner sold 
mustard and the other painted with it. Some intelligent 
Romans wondered that the English could be so devoid 
of taste as to admire and tolerate such extravagant pro- 
ductions. I suppose the hot colour in the foreground 
was what the benighted people laughed at. They must 
have been rather blind to fail to understand the beauty 
of the distance. 

Turner must have left Italy on the 22nd of January, 
1829, for there was a picture entitled: Messieurs les 
Voyageurs on their Return from Italy {par la Diligence) 
in a Snow-drift upon Mount Tarra. The other pictures 
were: The Banks of the Loire, now in the Schwabe Col- 
lection at Hamburg; Linlithgow Palace, which stands 
on a height overlooking a lake in which some boys are 
bathing; The Loretto Necklace, an Italian town perched 
on a wooded knoll, down which rushes a waterfall. There 


is an aqueduct and some distant mountains, and in the 
foreground, under the conventional Turner tree, are the 
two little figures which give the name to the picture. 
Besides this, there was Ulysses deriding PolypJievnis, 
from Homer's " Odyssey," a most wonderful kaleido- 
scopic composition, lighted from all directions, a fiery 
sunrise on one side of the picture, and on the other the 
galley of Ulysses in full sunlight, her long lateen yards 
crowded with the sailors who are loosing the bellying 
sails and hoisting strange pennants. The oars are lash- 
ing the water, and round the prow, in a sort of green 
phosphorescence, are many sea-nymphs gambolling like 
dolphins, beyond are arched rocks and fairy caves with 
lights twinkling in misty grottoes. Above are piled 
mountain peaks which melt into the clouds, and the dim 
outline of the Cyclops is seen in the mists, resting his 
head upon his hand, and calling down vengeance upon 
the Greeks who have blinded him, Polyphemus is the 
finest suggestion of a figure Turner ever painted. He is 
made to look enormous, and there is something pathetic 
in his attitude of impotent fury which somehow makes 
one pity him. One does not find out Ulysses until after 
looking at the picture for some time, though he is in red 
and stands in a prominent place upon the poop, nor does 
one at first see the figure of Phoebus rising with his horses 
from the sea. There are two more Greek ships, black 
against the sunrise, and the whole is one of the most 
extraordinary dreams ever put upon canvas. It is quite 
impossible even to try to criticize such a picture, for it is 
so utterly unlike anything we have ever seen (unless 


perhaps in the transformation scene at a pantomime), so 
that we can only stand and wonder at its magnificence. 

In 1830, Turner exhibited Pilate washing his Hands : 
" When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but 
that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and 
washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am 
innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it" 
(St. Matthew, xxvii, 24). 

This picture is now in the National Gallery. I don't 
know whom Turner was trying to outdo when he painted 
it ; perhaps some long forgotten master. Then there was 
Palestrina; conipositioji, with a quotation from the MS. 
of the " Fallacies of Hope " : 

Or from yon mural rock, high crown'd Praeneste, 
Where misdeeming of his strength the Carthaginian stood, 
And marked, with eagle eye, Rome as his victim. 

I have never seen this picture, but it is described as a 
view over an extensive prospect. A town crowns vast 
rocky heights; there is a triumphal arch, a cascade, a 
glade, a flock of goats, and two children, amid fragments 
of ancient architecture upon the ground, and beyond blue 
sky with white clouds. 
Besides there was Jessica : 

Shylock. Jessica, shut the window, I say. 

Merchant of Venice. 

This was painted in Rome, as his letter to Chantrey 
shows. The Lord E. was George, third Earl of Egre- 
mont. Calais sands, low water — Poissards collecting bait ; 
The Fish Market on the Sands — the Sun rising through 



Vapour; and Funeral of Sir Thomas Lawrence, a sketch 
from memory. 
^*^^T7^ The funeral took place in the snow, and Wilkie, who 
■^■^^^ * was next to Turner, whispered, " That 's a fine effect," but 
Turner considered the remark untimely, and turned away 
in disgust; nevertheless he could not resist trying to 
realize the scene when he got home. The sketch is now 
in the National Gallery, One sees the portico of St. 
Paul's Cathedral, with the procession moving up the 
steps. The statue of Queen Anne and the carriages are 
all in deep snow. 

This year the banker-poet, Samuel Rogers, brought 
^c-^ out his " Italy," sumptuously printed, bound, and illus- 

t ^ ' trated with splendid drawings by Turner, engraved by 

all the finest talent of the time. The subjects were The 
Lake of Geneva; TelVs Chapel; St. Maurice; The Great 
St. Bernard (with figures by Stothard, and dogs by 
Landseer); The Battle of Marengo; Aosta; Martigny; The 
Alps; Cojuo; Venice; Florence; Villa of Galileo; Villa 
Madonna; Rome; The Camp agna; Castle of St. Angelo; 
Tivoli, Ruins; Scene with Banditti; Naples; Paestum; 
Amalfi; The Felucca, and Farewell. 

Turner and Rogers got on very well together. The 
poet was rallied for bringing out his rather mild effusions 
in such a magnificent setting, but he certainly made a 
most attractive book. I remember when F was a boy, 
there was a pawnbroker's shop in High Street, Camden 
Town, where a tray full of Turner's engravings to 
Rogers's poems were for sale at a penny each. All my 
spare pocket money at that time used to be spent in 


Turners, and little scraps of rhyme were attached. I can 
remember some of them even now. The poet enriched 
his house in St. James's Place with some of the finest 
and rarest pictures, busts, books, and gems. His con- 
versation was said to be rich and various, abounding in 
wit, eloquence, shrewd observation, and interesting per- 
sonal anecdote. When quite a boy he longed for an 
interview with the great Dr. Johnson, and twice pre- 
sented himself at his door in Bolt Court; but the first 
time he called the Doctor was out, and the second time, 
after he had rung the bell, the heart of the young poet 
failed him, and he ran away without waiting for the 
door to open. 

In September of this year a great blow fell upon 
Turner. His old father died, and the painter was never 
the same man again. The good parson, Mr. Trimmer, 
brought him away to stay at Heston, and the family did 
their best to cheer him up; but Turner was fearfully out 
of spirits and always felt his loss. In truth, it must be 
admitted that the old man was, to a great extent, re- 
sponsible for the education which helped to make Turner 
the man he afterwards became. He taught him hard 
work, he taught him thrift, he helped his art in every 
possible way. Money was not plentiful in the family, 
but whatever fees were wanted for tuition were always 
forthcoming. Then when the boy began to make a name 
and could afford to take a house with a studio, the old 
barber left his shop and came to watch over his gifted 
son, waiting on him and doing a hundred little useful 
jobs, straining the canvases, digging the garden, doing 


the marketing, even cooking the dinner at times, and 
always looking after his interests in every way. The 
two were always on the best of terms in their simple 
frugal menage, saving the pennies, and happy in their 
own way. One can fancy what a blank the cheerful, 
chatty old man left, and how the dusty, untidy house 
became more dismal and mouldy when he was gone. 

He was buried in the parish church of St. Paul, Covent 
Garden, where the painter had been baptized years be- 
fore, and the following epitaph, evidently written by 
Turner himself, was placed over the grave: 

In the vault 

Beneath and near this Place 

are deposited the remains of 

William Turner 

many years an inhabitant of this parish 

who died 

September 21st, 1830. 

To his memory and of his wife 

Mary Ann 

their son J. M. W. Turner, R.A. 

has placed this Tablet 

August, 1832. 

In the Royal Academy of 183 1 there were seven pic- 
tures, Z?/^^^^:^' mid Manby Apparatus goi7ig off to a stranded 
Vessel making Signals (blue lights) of Distress, now in 
the South Kensington Museum. Gorlestone Pier is in 
middle distance, and the breakers are tumbling on to 
the sandy shore. The old-time lifeboat, not at all the 
shape of our modern craft, is struggling to reach the 
wreck which sending up a rocket, is only just distin- 


gulshable through the driving spray. In the foreground 
are the stumps of another wreck sticking out of the sand, 
and many boats and figures are dotted along high-water 

Caligula's Palace and Bridge : 

What now remains of all the mighty bridge 
Which made the Lucrine lake an inner pool, 
Caligula, but massive fragments left. 
As monuments of doubt and ruined hopes 
Yet gleaming in the morning's ray that tell 
How Baiae's shore was loved in times gone by? 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

The rising sun is shining straight through a rent in the 
palace wall, right into our very eyes; its rays shoot out 
in a most real fashion through every chink and cranny, 
and so long as we shut out the rest of the picture with 
our hands, and look only at the ruin in the middle, the 
effect is quite what one might very well see in nature. 
The moment we move our hands and turn a little to the 
right we come to quite a new state of things. A boy and 
a girl are sitting on an unsubstantial yellow rock, lighted 
by quite another sun, which (judging by the shadows 
thrown upon the ground) must be very nearly behind 
the spectator's head. This second sun must be a much 
brighter one than the sun that is flashing its rays through 
the palace, for the white cap and the face and neck of 
the girl are as light as paint will make them. Just be- 
yond, a goat is in the rays of the sun behind our heads, 
but when we come to the grove of drawing-master trees, 
the old state of affairs returns, the conventional foliage 


standing dark and strong (except for the curious misti- 
ness about the further branches) against the golden sky 
of morning. In fact, Turner has turned his magic Hme- 
h'ght on where his fancy prompted him, and has given 
us only as much nature as he thought good for us. 

I have no idea where the palace of Caligula may be, 
and as for the " mighty bridge which made the Lucrine 
Lake an inner pool," Turner seems to have mixed up the 
Via Hercu/ea, with the bridge of boats which the insane 
Emperor threw across the Bay of Baiae, in order that he 
might, clad in the armour of Alexander the Great, cele- 
brate his triumph over the Parthians. The palace looks 
as though it were a sort of recollection of the Palazzo di 
Donna Anna, built in the seventeenth century at Posilipo, 
and the piled up classic buildings on the left might have 
been suggested by San Martino. 

Vision of Medea: 

Or Medea who in the full tide of witchery 

Had lured the dragon, gained her Jason's love, 

Had filled the spell-bound bowl with .^son's life, 

Yet dashed it to the ground, and raised the poisonous snake 

High in the jaundiced sky to writhe its murderous coil, 

Infuriate in the wreck of hope withdrew, 

And in the fired palace her twin offspring threw. 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

This is quite a figure subject, and was perhaps an 
attempt to outdo Stothard. The Sorceress is represented 
waving her wand and performing an incantation. The 
Fates, the Twins in the dragon chariot, and behind 
Medea again, throwing her children into the burning 



palace. There is not much scope for Turner's own 
peculiar power, and the same may be said of Watteau 
painting a Study by Fresnoy's rules, 

White when it shines with unstained lustre clear 
May bear an object back, or bring it near. 

Fresnoy's Art of Painthtg. 

And also Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, and Dorothy Percy's 
Visit to their father, Lord Percy, when under attainder 
7ipoti the supposition of his being concerned in the Gun- 
powder Plot, 

Besides these, there were two shipping subjects, 
A diniral Van Tramp's barge at the entrance of the Texel, 
1645, now in Sir John Soane's Museum, and a stranded 
Man-of-War fighting. In this arduous service {of recon- 
naissance) on the French coast, 1805, one of our cruisers 
took the ground, and had to sustain the attack of the flying 
artillery along shore, the batteries and the Fort of Viiuieux, 
ivhich fired heated sJtot, until she could warp off at the 
rising tide, ivhich set in with all the appearance of a 
stormy night (" Naval Anecdotes''). 

This picture is now in New York. I would be very 
pleased to see it, for I lived for twenty-five years in the 
corps de garde of the very fort spoken of in the title. As 
children my brothers and I played on the sands where 
the French flying artillery fired upon the stranded 
frigate. We used to swim out to the old fort, and knew 
every inch of the ground for miles round. Oddly 
enough, when I was turning over Turner's sketch books 
in the basement of the National Gallery, some of the first 


sets of drawings I opened were outlines of this bit of 
coast. Two forts stood on the rocks at low water, which 
are nothing save a heap of ruins now; but I remember 
them staunch and strong, just as Turner drew them, with 
the cliffs of La Creche as a background, 
^v, ,(».ik-> In this year, 1831, Turner went to Scotland to make 
a set of twenty-four drawings for a new edition of Sir 
Walter Scott's poems. He saw the Trossachs and Loch 
Katrine for the first time, and went on as far as Corriskin 
m Skye. This he used to declare was the grandest scene 
he knew. Clambering about the steep rocks to look for 
a good point of view, his foot slipped, and if it had not 
been for one or two tufts of grass which he caught he 
must have broken his neck. 

Some of these engravings are wonderful examples of 
dainty finish. Take, for example, the perfect little Stirling. 
Here in a space of only five and a half inches by three, 
are countless square miles of country. The Forth wind- 
ing among flat meadows, the stern castle perched upon 
its crag, the busy town clustered at the base, the hills 
stretching away one behind the other, until at last you 
lose them among the clouds. The quarry cut deep into 
the rock thick with workers, some not so big as a pin's 
head, yet all as right as they can be. Every fold in the 
ground carefully thought out and brought into its proper 
place in the scheme by subtle gradations of light and 
dark. Was ever work done like this before ? Then the 
exquisite vignette of Dimfermlifie; what a study in 
tones of the most delicate softness ! How grandly Turner 
has woven the texture of his theme, now dark, now pale. 


here sharp and clear, there melting into misty vague 
forms, always beautiful, and always helping towards the 
perfection of the whole. 

Crai^mt//ar is another tender little glimpse of a ruined 
castle standing against the sunset. 

Norhani^ a subject Turner was never tired of repeat- 
ing, is a very delicate twilight effect; the old tower is 
still lighted by the last faint glow from the sunset, whilst 
the full moon rises over the hill behind it. This is much 
grander than the same view drawn at an earlier time. 
The beautiful little drawing of Edinburgh is quite char- 
acteristic of Turner in the strange blending of two 
effects, Calton Hill and Holyrood being in strong light 
from a sun which must be a long way to the left, whilst 
the castle and the Canongate are lighted by another 
sun which stands in the sky right above them. 

Another, oi Fort Augustus, is a wonderful instance of 
the artist's habit of drawing his subject from two or 
three different points of view. The result is that the 
water appears to lie at three different levels. r 

Turner asked Jones what he intended to paint for J^_,,,f^gf^ 
1832. "Oh," said the other, "The fiery furnace, with \^z,,jz^ 
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego." " A good subject," ^c^/'v*^^ 
said J. M. W. T., who always loved to pit himself against G^^^-^^c^ 
some other painter, " I'll do it also. What size?" " Kitcat 
upright." So two panels were ordered, and the two 
friends set to work to paint the same subject, each in his 
own way without seeing how the other did it. When the 
exhibition was hung Jones's picture of the Fiery Furnace 
was placed opposite to a very gray Turner of Helvoet- 


sluys — the City of Utrecht^ 64, going to Sea. Next to 
this was Constable's fussy picture of The Opening of 
Waterloo Bridge. Turner stood and watched the Suffolk 
painter brightening up the flags and decorations of the 
city barges. After a while he went up to his own and 
laid on a daub of red lead about the size of a shilling. 
" He has been here and fired a gun," said Constable. 
" Oh," said Cooper, " a coal has bounced across the room 
from Jones's Fiery Furnace, and has set fire to Turner's 
sea." This is all from Thornbury's "Life." The daub 
of red lead was afterwards turned into a buoy, and it 
remains to this day. The Turner picture of The Furnace, 
now in the National Gallery, represents Nebuchadnezzar 
on his throne beside three queens. There is a great 
crowd, lit up by the glare, and in the middle a vast 
spectral figure. ' 

Besides this there was Staffa, FingaVs cave: 

Nor of a theme less solemn tells 
That mighty surge that ebbs and swells. 
And still between each awful pause 
From the high vault an answer draws. 

Sir Walter Scott's Lord of the Isles. 

Breakers are dashing against the basaltic columns, 
the smoke from a steamer's funnel blending with the 
dark rain clouds hides the tops of the cliffs. This picture 
was bought for Mr. Lenox of New York City, by C. R. 
Leslie, R.A. 

Then there was Van Tronifs shallop at the entrance 
of the Scheldt, which went to the collection of Munro of 


Novar; and The Prince of Orange^ William III, em- 
barked from Holland and landed at Torbay, November 
4th, 1688, after a stormy passage. The Protestant east 
wind has raised quite a big swell, and in the middle of 
the picture is the state barge of the prince, who is raising 
his hat to some cheering sailors. Behind a three-decker 
is bringing up, head to wind, and saluting, and there are 
many craft beyond, some at anchor and others under 
way. Though the subject and treatment might have 
been suggested by Vanderveld, the colour and the 
painting of the sky and water are not in the least like 
that master. Turner has thrown aside the old-time blacks 
and browns and heavy grays, never to return to them. 
Light and brilliancy is what he tries for now. And in 
Ckilde Harold's Pilgrimage, Italy, he is at his very best: 

And now, fair Italy! 
Thou art the garden of the world 
Even in thy desert what is like to thee? 
Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste 
More rich than other climes' fertility ; 
Thy wreck a glory and thy ruin graced 
With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced. 


There is no blending of several different effects in this 
picture, nor is there the least attempt to gain strength 
by throwing half the subject into shadow, whilst the 
other half is in sunshine. There are none of the usual 
artifices of Turner. 

It seems as though he had made up his mind to suc- 
ceed by sheer beauty of handling and of colour, and by 


nothing else. The pale blue sky, merging into the warm 
haze, runs right across the subject, without break or 
variation. The whole of the wonderful wooded landscape, 
dotted with villas and ruins ; the little towns, perched on 
their hill-tops; the horse-shoe bend of the placid river; 
everything, from the ruined bridge to the distant mount- 
tains, is bathed in the same golden sunshine. There is no 
rainbow, no sunset or moon-rising, no storm-cloud; 
simply a beautiful scene on a perfect afternoon. The 
two little dancing figures are very daintily suggested; 
but the rest of the foreground is quite unsubstantial and 
unreal, and the stone pine one of the worst that Turner 
ever painted. Could there ever be such a feeble branch 
as that one on the left? 
-vj5 m. Out of all these works exhibited at the Academy only 
one sold. The constant issue of engravings was the real 
secret of Turner's wealth. In 1833 The Rivers of France, 
at first called " Turner's Annual Tour," was begun. The 
letterpress was by Leitch Ritchie, author of " Heath's 
Picturesque Annual." He describes the banks of the 
Seine, adding many wonderful stories of Norman heroes 
and heroines, with full details of the most gruesome 
sieges and massacres. Turner and the author did not 
travel together, as their tastes were dissimilar. Here is a 
description of the artist's methods: 

" His exaggerations, when it suited his purpose, were 
wonderful; lifting up, for instance, by two or three 
stories, the steeple, or rather the stunted cone of a 
village church. I never failed to roast him on the habit. 
He took my remarks in very good part, sometimes in- 





deed in great glee, never attempting to defend himself 
otherwise than by rolling back the war into the enemy's 
camp. In my account of the famous Gilles de Retz, I 
had attempted to identify that prototype of ' Blue " 
Beard ' with the hero of the nursery story by absurdly 
insisting that his beard was so intensely black that it 
seemed to have a shade of blue. This tickled the great 
painter hugely; and his only reply to my bantering was, 
his little sharp eyes glistening the while, ' Blue Beard! 
Blue Beard! Black Beard! ' " 

The drawings made for the Annual Tour are for the 
most part in the National Gallery, though Ruskin had 
one or two of the best. There is quite a change notice- 
able in the colour, which is not so tender as in the earlier 
work. Red is put in where there is red in nature, and 
blue where there is blue; but it does not always seem 
the right red or the right blue. The sketches seem to 
be often experiments in colour rather than attempts 
to render nature. Besides the change in colour, there 
is a distinct falling off from the high finish, delicate 
drawing and subtle tone of the Scott drawings, though 
The Light Towers of the Heve; Rouen Cathedral; and 
four or five of the others are quite perfect, and could 
have been painted by no other hand. It is curious, con- 
sidering what a very bright green province Normandy 
is that Turner should never have thought of trying to 
render the colours of the fields and orchards. No doubt 
the fashion of the day was too strong for him, for he 
never did. None of the drawings are exact copies of 
actual scenes, being in some cases two or three different 


views united into one subject, yet Turner has succeeded 
in catching the character of the country, and also a great 
deal of its beauty. 

Ruskin has accused him of being blind to the fine 
qualities of Gothic architecture, but the artist who could 
produce that drawing of the front of Rouen Cathedral 
could never have been insensible to its grandeur. 

This year Turner exhibited his first picture of The 
Queen of the Adriatic, Bridge of Sighs, Ducal Palace, and 
Ciist07n House, Venice — Canaletti Paintifig. This was 
one of the Vernon Collection, and is now in the National 
Gallery. It is not at all the vague Dream City of his 
later time; but a rather matter-of-fact, topographical 
sort of a view, as though it were intended to rival the 
painter who is represented at work on a raft on the left. 
It does not strike one as a great success, partly, no 
doubt, because of the straight line of the Ducal Palace, 
which runs right across the composition in the most 
prosaic way, just as though it were a builder's plan, 
except that the builder would have drawn his walls up- 
right. Of course the picture is a blend of at least two 
different points of view, St. Marc's is painted as it 
appears from the Baccino in front of St. Giorgio Mag- 
giore, whilst the Dogana di Mare is evidently drawn 
from a spot some way up the Giudecca Canal. The 
effect, too, is rather commonplace, blue sky overhead, 
and the building in a kind of half sunlight. There was 
also the Ducal Palace, Venice, a view looking across the 
Piazetta, and introducing the two columns of St. Marc 
and St. Giorgio. Then there was a subject evidently 


painted at the time he was illustrating the " Rivers of 
France " — Mouth of the Seine Quelle bccuf. 

" This estuary is so dangerous from its quicksands^ that 
any vessel taking the ground, is liable to be stranded and 
overivhelnied by the rising tide, whicli rushes in in one 

Beside these, there were three Netherland subjects 
the Rotterdam Feriy Boat, Van Goyen looking out for a 
Subject; and Van Tromp returning after the Battle of the 
Dogger Ba?ik. This year Finden's Landscape and Portrait 
Illustrations to the " Life and Works of Lord Byron," 
was published. There were drawings of Gibraltar, Malta, 
the Acropolis, Temple of Minerva, Rhodes, Cephalonia, 
and others. 

In 1834 Turner exhibited two fanciful pictures, The 
Fountain of Indolence; which is represented as crowded 
with sporting Loves and Cupids; while in the distance is a 
lake and a temple; and in the foreground a figure, with 
a fishing-rod, lying at the foot of some tall trees. This 
work is now in New York. The second is based on the 
myth that Lake Avernus was the overflowing of Acheron, 
and one of the entrances to Hades, and that a bough 
plucked from the tree of Proserpine would enable mortals 
to enter the dominions of Pluto. It was called The 
Golden Bough, and a quotation from " The Fallacies of 
Hope" was sent with it; but the Council at the Academy, 
for some reason, suppressed the lines, though they left 
the name of the poem, which should have gone at the 
foot. The real Lake Avernus is almost completely 
circular, for it is, in fact, the crater of an extinct vol- 


cano. This shape did not take Turner's fancy, and he 
has altered it a good deal, putting in a temple and the 
conventional pine-tree, beneath which are reclining 
figures. On the left is another classic person with a 
sickle, holding the golden bough, and standing by a pool. 

There was also The Grand Canal, Venice, a very much 
better picture than the one of the year before, and also 
more true to nature. We are looking out towards the 
sea from the entrance of the canal ; on the right are the 
Dogana and the steps of Santa Maria della Salute; to 
the left are the Ducal Palace and St. Marc, whilst the 
calm water is crowded with queer vessels of all sorts. 
Thornbury tells how one varnishing day, Jones, who had 
a picture with a blue sky in it, tried to paint it brighter, 
to make it strong enough to stand Turner's Venetian 
picture, which hung alongside. Turner, who saw what 
was going on, made his sky more blue too, so Jones, who 
thought that he would get the worst of the battle, 
painted out the blue sky and filled in a white one. " Ah, 
Joney, you have done me now," said Turner, and put on 
no more cobalt. 

Then Wreckers — coast of Northumberland, with a 
steamboat assisting a ship off shore, now in Pittsburg; 
and St. Michael's Mount, Cornwall; a very striking view 
of the rock standing high above the shining sand in the 
misty sunlight. There are all sorts of queer, distorted 
craft stranded on the crowded foreshore, and fishermen, 
in striped nightcaps and petticoat trousers, are landing 
the catch. This picture is in the South Kensington 


Thornbury tells how one day Gillott, the pen manu- 
facturer, went to the enchanted house in Queen Anne 
Street: "Arrived at the blistered, dirty door of the 
house with the black crusted windows, he pulled the 
bell, which answered with a querulous, melancholy 
tinkle. After a long, inhospitable pause, an old woman, 
with a diseased face, having looked up from the area, 
presently ascended and tardily opened the door. She 
snappishly asked Mr. Gillott's business; and when he 
told her in his blandest voice, ' Can't let 'e in,' was the 
answer; after which she tried to slam the door. But 
during the parley the crafty and determined Dives had 
put his foot in; and now, declining farther interruption, 
he pushed past the feeble, enraged janitress, and hurried 
upstairs to the gallery. In a moment Turner was out 
upon him wath the promptitude of a spider whose web 
has been invaded by another arachnid. Mr. Gillott 
bowed, introduced himself, and stated that he had come 
to buy, ' Don't want to sell,' or some such rebuff was the 
answer; but Gillott shut his ears to all Turner's angry 
vituperations. ' Have you ever seen our Birmingham 
pictures, Mr. Turner?' he inquired with unruffled pla- 
cidity, ' Never 'eard of em,' was the answer. Gillott now 
drew from his pocket a silvery, fragile bundle of Bir- 
mingham banknotes (about ^4,000 worth). ' Mere paper,' 
observed Turner with grim humour; a little softened, 
however, and evidently enjoying the joke. ' To be 
bartered for mere canvas,' said Gillott, waving his hand 
at the Building of Carthage and its companions. This 
tone of cool depreciation seemed to have a happy effect. 



' You're a rum fellow!' exclaimed the painter; after 
which he was induced gradually to enter into negotia- 
tions, which finally resulted in the deportation in Gillott's 
cab of some ;^5,ooo worth of Turner's pictures. It was 
the manufacturers, as I have said, and not the noblemen 
of England, who were Turner's best patrons." 

" On another occasion, according to Mr. Birch, Turner 
enumerated to Dives various books of sketches that he 
possessed, and several of which he produced. They are 
now national property. They were coloured memoranda, 
valuable as jewels, embracing notes in pencil and chalk ; 
blue gleams of sea and sky ; wafts of mist, ochrey sails, 
and white, frozen waves of Alps. To the eager merchant 
these were exhibited with a certain savagely selfish 
satisfaction, such as that wherewith an ill-conditioned old 
maid exhibits the family diamonds to her poor but 
pretty niece, or an affluent antiquary sets forth his 
cameos before a juvenile collector. Turner's delight was 
expressed by many a chuckle distributed through the 
interview, during which it was his study to tantalize the 
inflamed spectator in every possible way; and such was 
his amiability on the occasion that he even induced him 
to make several offers. But it was only playing at busi- 
ness; Turner simply was amusing himself by observing 
the mercury rise again in the well-known price barometer. 
. . . The offers gradually mounted to the large sum of a 
thousand pounds apiece; when, after deliberately clos- 
ing them one by one and laying them aside, he pro- 
ceeded to inquire, 'Well, would you like to have them?' 
'Yes, yes!' was the answer, returned with all the iqi- 

.-PS-,--,- , -. <' 






petuosity characteristic of one burning to secure his 
treasures. ' I dare say you would! ' was the final exclama- 
tion, to which a slily malicious laugh lent not a little 
point by way of aggravation." 

In 1835 there were Keelnien heaving in Coals by N'ighf, 
a Tyne subject, the moon with a path of glittering water 
under it, and many vessels loading by torchlight; The 
Broad Stone of Honour, Ehrenbreitstein, and Toinbe of 
Marceau, from Byron's " Child Harold " : 

He was Freedom's champion. 
Here Ehrenbreitstein with her shattered wall 
Yet shows of what she was. 
By Coblentz on a rise of gentle ground. 
There is a small and simple pyramid 
Crowning the summit of the verdant mound; 
Beneath its base are Hero's ashes laid, 
Our enemy's — but let not that forbid 
Honour to Marceau. . . . 

The Rhine at its junction with the Moselle, the fortress, 
the town, and bridge, with crowds of figures, and the full 
moon rising in a sunset-flushed sky. 

Venice from the porch of Madonna della Salute; another 
view of the Grand Canal crowded with boats and gon- 
dolas. This picture is now in the Metropolitan Museum, 
New York. 

Line Fishing off Hastings; the clouds are low down 
and hide the upper part of the cliffs here and there. The 
way in which the ground is modelled and drawn is quite 
perfect. The long backbone of the ridge is lost and 
found again in twenty ways, each different from the 


others; the sky is as real as it can be, and the town 
dotted on the side of the slope is beautiful. But as we 
turn to the nearer objects, we may see that they are 
not nearly so well done. A dreadful old brig is sailing 
towards us very much out, both in drawing and propor- 
tion. There is a very slight attempt made to render 
either the boats or the choppy waves, and how those 
reflections come to be exactly under the objects 
throwing them, in all that lumpy water, heaven only 

The last picture this year was The Burning of the 
Houses of Lords and Commons, October i6th, 1834. Here 
is a part of a letter written by Scarlett Davies at the 
time: "Turner has painted a large picture of the Burn- 
ing of the Tivo Houses of Parliament; but I have heard 
it spoken of as a failure — a devil of a lot of chrome. 
He finished it on the walls the last two days before the 
gallery opened to the public. I am told it was good fun 
to see the great man whacking away with about fifty 
stupid apes standing round him, and I understand he 
was cursedly annoyed — the fools kept peeping into his 
colour-box and examining all his brushes and colours." 
Later on he says, speaking of some Turner drawings, " I 
can assure you a treat. There are parts of some of them 
wonderful, and by God all other drawings look heavy 
and vulgar." 

\\\ the British Institution Turner exhibited another 
picture with the same title. Both were taken from the 
Surrey side of the water, and show the bridge and the 
towers of Westminster Abbey. 

• <}'^ 

,.^^: . . .-^ 

-ewfJ'^^^ _ ■' 





.^^S^'-t^ ' i 



A wonderful personage now comes into our story, no ' it. v^A^ 
less a figure than the future Slade Professor of Art, John 
Ruskin, the son of a wealthy wine merchant, who had 
resolved that his boy should have everything that money 
could buy, or education bestow. In 1836, when only 
seventeen, and still a gentleman commoner of Christ 
Church, Oxford, Ruskin wrote for Blackwood a fervid 
defence of Turner's pictures. Perhaps this was the dawn 
of his florid imagination and gorgeous imagery. 

It seems he first submitted his article to the artist, 
who, however, when he had read through it, never even 
took the trouble to forward it on to the magazine. In 
fact, we do not even know if Turner cared to do as 
much as to glance at it. It is quite clear that all Ruskin's 
extravagant rhetoric in praise of his work gave the artist 
no pleasure. " He knows a great deal more about my 
pictures than I do. He puts things into my head and 
points out meanings in them, that I never intended," 
was all that Turner would say. Later on Ruskin went 
to France and Italy to recover from a love passion. He 
had met, when very young, a beautiful French lady, and 
wooed her by writing poems, romances, and dramas, but 
his mute worship was not to her taste, and, after treating 
the poet with coldness, indifference, and ridicule, the gay 
beauty at last married an older man, and the youth took 
his degree, and then poured out his soul in a more 
elaborate defence of his hero. Turner. " Modern Painters, 
vol. i., by a Graduate of Oxford," made a great sensa- 
tion. The flow of sonorous words strung into beautiful 
sentences, won over many who were quite blind to the 


splendid colour and gorgeous imagination of the queer 
and eccentric old man of Queen Anne Street. 

No doubt the Philistines of that time were by slow 
degrees brought to think there might be some hidden 
good in the experimental essays of the painter, which 
were often misunderstood, or looked on as " little better 
than the freaks of a gifted madman." By a curious 
coincidence, the more Ruskin laboured to make the in- 
different British public admire Turner's work, the more 
difficult did the task become. The painter, as he grew 
older, became more daring and original, sometimes dash- 
ing in a mere impression of some passing effect, or 
perhaps, more often, a weird combination of strange tints 
and colours. This was made more incomprehensible by 
the unsubstantiality of the foreground. It was given, by 
way of title, an incoherent verse of strange and vague 
import, peculiar for what Gilbert Hamerton calls " a sort 
of thunderous grandeur." 

The burning enthusiasm of Ruskin is a wonderful 
thing to look back upon; he was so full of energy and 
courage, this gentleman commoner of seventeen. One 
wonders that he should have thought that the Great 
Royal Academician (then at the height of honour and 
fame among his brother artists) required any help to 
stand as the greatest of them all. I suppose the truth is 
that Ruskin, having naturally great taste, and a power of 
distinguishing good from indifferent art, and having also 
a wonderful gift of writing enchanting prose, felt that 
he must burst into rapture over something, and so chose 
the creations of Turner's brain and hand as the most 


-^i^ -4 &1. 





.i 7 

> "J 


? \ 

■ •'^Eary t^aigi. 


worthy of praise. Unfortunately, in his zeal and energy, 
Ruskin has been carried far beyond the truth, and gives 
us a fabulous Turner — about as unlike the real man as 
can be. To make out that Turner was a neglected 
genius, and that the noblest intellect of his time never 
met with a single word or ray of sympathy — that all 
the world was turned against him — is simply absurd. 
When we come to descriptions of the pictures, we meet 
such words as the following: "J. M. W.Turner is the 
only man who has ever given an entire transcript of the 
whole system of nature." This is impossible nonsense. 
The writer's eloquence and devotion have carried him 
much too far. I am afraid I also have gone on a little too 
far; for whilst telling of Ruskin in 1836, I have somehow 
got on to " Modern Painters," which was not published 
until 1843. More than this, I have quoted some words 
written in the fifties. 

Let us, therefore, get back to our period, and to the 
dismal house in Queen Anne Street. Here are some 
quotations from Thornbury: "The gallery latterly got 
most dilapidated. The oiled paper of the skylight hung 
in black sooty furred slips. The damp here and there 
had free access, and many of the pictures suffered. In 
one picture a white button of paint that had stood for 
the sun had dropped off. ' I think some one has picked it 
off intentionally,' said Mr. Goodall. ' I think some one 
has,' replied Turner, quite unmoved. The drugget, once 
red, was gray and threadbare, the red cloth on the walls, 
marked all over with tack holes, had been bought by 
Turner a bargain." 


" Against the wall there were heaps of dirty frames 
and stacks of dusty pictures, with their faces turned in- 
ward. As for the sofa, it seemed dangerous to your 
future peace to rest on it." 

" The sordid and unhappy-looking room was remark- 
able for a dusty, dirty buffet, in which was the imme- 
morial sherry bottle with the broken cork and one glass. 
* It ought to be good,' said Turner, 'it's the same bottle 
you tasted before.' This was a year ago. The drawing- 
room was peopled by filthy tailless cats, pets of the old 

" In this sordid den were all the thirty thousand proofs 
of engravings rotting and mouldering, uncared for by 
anyone but the cats, who hid behind them." 

" Bligh Sand, the well-known picture in the National 
Gallery, was also useful to the pussies, for it was placed 
against a broken window, their private entree, and by 
squeezing past it they passed in and out at their own 
sweet wills." 

In 1836 the exhibited pictures are all Italian subjects. 
Juliet and lier Nurse is really a moonlight view of the 
Piazza of St. Mark, crowded with people, and seen from 
the roof of a building. Close by is the Church of St. Mark 
and the Ducal Palace. San Giorgio is seen across the 
water, where the boats are letting off rockets. This was 
one of the Munroe collection, and is now in New York. 
Rojue from Mount Aventine is also one of the Munroe 
pictures. It shows the Forum and the Coliseum, and 
there are figures and goats in the foreground. 

Mercury and Argus is an upright composition. The 




setting sun is shining brightly over a lake studded with 
islands, and ringed by white buildings. The Turner tree 
stands almost in the centre, and beyond is a Tuscan 
town perched upon a wooded crag and seen in sharp 
perspective, as though one were standing close under it. 
The two classic personages, who give the title to the 
work, are sitting on a slope, close to two streams. lo, the 
white cow, drinks from one of them, and there are other 
cattle dotted about. This is quite the typical Turner of 
the thirties. There is everything in it that we have learnt 
to expect: — the subject from the heathen mythology; 
the scene a fifteenth-century Italian town, standing 
white against the sky, whilst a brilliant sun sets beyond 
it; the wonderful fairylike grottoes and cascades showing 
half hidden among the trees; the beautiful mountains 
stretching away ridge beyond ridge, until lost in im- 
measurable distance; the noble sky; the tall drawing- 
master tree (this time, by the way, it is quite well 
drawn), all are here. 

Munro, of Novar, having fallen into a great depression 
of spirits which would not be shaken off, Turner sug- 
gested a trip abroad, and the two friends started off to 
Chamouni. Munro found (as he told Thornbury) that 
Turner enjoyed himself in his way — a sort of honest 
Diogenes way — and if you bore with this, it was easy to 
get on, very pleasantly, with him, so that they even talked 
of going on to the East. What the painter disliked was 
teasing questions as to how he got this or that colour. 

Once in the Val d'Aosta he got into trouble with a 
sketch, which he altered and sponged till it became 


an unpleasant whitey green. He became quite fretful, 
saying, " I could have done twice as much with the 

" Have you got the sponge ? " he would say every 
morning. Turner never rhapsodized about scenery. 
He would climb to some distance from his friend, and 
set to work in a silent, concentrated frame of mind. He 
used no maulstick ; his touch being sure and decisive. On 
this tour the sketch for The Avalanche ^^^.s taken, one of 
the grand pictures of the Munro collection. 

He had a commission for a view of Modern Rome, and 
Sir Charles Eastlake was surprised when he saw the 
trouble Turner had taken to get everything quite in its 
right place — the Tiber and all the antiquities. He had 
been asked for a copy, not for an ideal picture. Turner 
also went on to Venice to make a drawing, but brought 
back a large picture that Munro never liked. However, 
the latter sold it a few years afterwards for a great deal 
more than he gave. 

The two friends came homeward by way of Turin. 
Next year at the British Institution there was exhibited 
Reguhis, sometimes called Regulus leaving Rome, and 
sometimes Regulus leaving Carthage; though it does not 
matter much which we call it, for I expect the picture is 
not in the least like either place. The sun is sinking in 
a blaze of light, and the path of glitter on the choppy 
sea is wonderfully real ; one almost feels inclined to shade 
one's eyes when looking at it. There is a great pile of 
classic buildings (modern classic they seem) and hun- 
dreds of figures, some bathing, others pushing off in odd- 


shaped galleys, whilst on the left light towers and 
castles stretch away into the haze. I notice in one corner 
some men are rolling a big barrel. I suppose this is 
symbolical of the tub, with the nails inside, with which 
poor Regulus was done to death; a small picture this, 
and quite a good one. 

In the Academy, Turner showed Story of Apollo and 
Daphne — Ovid's " Metamorphoses." 

Sure is my bow, unerring is my dart, 
But ah ! more deadly his who pierced my heart. 

As when thMmpatient greyhound slipt from far, 
Bounds o'er the glebe to course the fearful hare; 
She in her speed does all her safety lay; 
And he with double speed pursues the prey. 

This is a view looking down the vale of Tempe to the 
sea. The arc aqueducts and lines of columns dotted over 
the plain, and on each side tall mountains, wooded thickly 
and with cascades dashing out from among the under- 
growth. Two of Turner's pear-shaped trees stand in the 
middle distance by the margin of a stream, and in the 
foreground Apollo and Daphne are watching a grey- 
hound coursing a hare — I suppose a symbol of the pur- 
suit of the nymph by the Sun-God. Cupid had shot a 
golden shaft into the heart of Apollo, but Daphne was 
only wounded with the leaden dart of distrust and dis- 
like. There are many other figures sitting about among 
the carved blocks of stone, and the picture has a little of 
the artificial character of a drop scene. 


The Parting of Hero and Leandcr — -from the Greek of 

The morning came too soon, with crimsoned blush, 
Chiding the tardy night and Cynthia's warning beam; 
But Love yet hngered on the terraced steep. 
Upheld young Hymen's torch and failing lamp, 
The token of departure, never to return. 
Wild dashed the Hellespont its straitened surge, 
And on the raised spray appeared Leander's fall. 

The moon is shining in a stormy sky and the dawn just 
appearing. Two women are standing on the terrace of 
a palace by the sea, waving a torch to light Hero, who 
is bending over her lover, already up to his knees in 
water. Beside these are cupids and sea-nymphs, and 
beyond, the rocky islands of the Hellespont. 
Scene. — A Street in Venice. 

Antonio. Hear me yet, good Shylock. 
Shylock. I'll have my bond. 

Merchant of Venice^ Act III, Sc. 3. 

This picture is really a view of the Grand Canal, looking 
towards the Rialto. There are many palaces, crowds of 
boats and figures, the Doge's state barge with a pro- 
cession landing with torches, and amongst the monks 
and nuns are seen the Jew waving the bond at Antonio 
and Salarino who stands below him. All three of these 
pictures are now in the National Gallery, so I suppose 
they were not sold in the Exhibition, the Snow-storm, 
Avalanche and Inundation — A Scene in the upper part of 
the Val d'Aout, Piedmo?it, went into the collection of 
Munro of Novar. 




V -J 



l^S*^^" 'ft' 



There are two portraits of Turner about this time. 
Linnell shows him in the fantastic full dress of the period, 
red velvet waistcoat, dandy coat with velvet collar, and a 
high wall of stiff, black, satin stock, the ends cascading 
down over his shirt front and fastened with a red coral 
breast-pin. A hat with the nap carefully brushed the 
wrong way was also said to be one of his characteristics. 
Mr. Trimmer also gives us his picture in words. " There 
was that peculiar keenness of expression in his eye that 
is only seen in men of constant habits of observation. 
He dressed in black with black gaiters, and though neat 
was not smart. He was retired in his habits, sensitive in 
his feelings, fond of children, and an excessively kind- 
hearted person." 

Here is another description : " At first sight Turner 
gave me the notion of a mean-looking little man. In 
descending a hill while out once on a sketching ramble, 
he snapped a tendon Achilles, and the enforced limping 
about thereafter with a stick did not add to his appear- 
ance. But all this wore off. To be appreciated he re- 
quired to be known. Though not polished he was not 
vulgar. In common with many men of genius he had 
not a good flow of words; and when heated in argument, 
got confused, especially, I am told, in his lectures on 
Perspective, though he was a master of his subject." 

Gilbert Hamerton says : " Though unpolished, even 
positively uncivilised. Turner had a nobility of heart as 
much above ordinary gentlemanhood as true poetry is 
above mere versification." 

The following oracular utterance appears to have been 


written for one of his lectures on perspective at the Royal 

" Reflections not only appear darker but larger than 
the object which occasions them; and if the ripple or 
hollow of the wave is long enough to make an angle with 
the eye, it is on these undulating lines that the object 
reflects, and transmits all perpendicular objects lower 
towards the spectator; but in receding lines, as well as 
objects, rules seem to lose their power, and those guides 
that enable us to find some cause for near objects, lose 
their power or become enfeebled by contraction in re- 
mote ones. It has been asserted that all appear equal 
from the base line of the water; but these axioms I dis- 
sent from. It is true that by placing the eye equal to the 
water it comes up to the rules laid down ; but when the 
water is ruffled on which all things are to be reflected, it 
is no longer in right angles, but according to the elevation 
of the spectator becomes more or less an angle of in- 
cidence. If the undulating surface of the liquid did not, 
by current or motion, congregate forms there would be 
no difficulty in simplifying the rules." 

Is not this a wonderfully involved piece of reasoning? 
One may read it over and over again, but still it is im- 
possible to make out what the professor was trying to 
demonstrate. Then the strange theory about rules which 
lose their power and become enfeebled, and the fantastic 
statement that by placing the eye equal to the water it 
comes up to the rules laid down, shows clearly that 
Turner had a mind quite incapable of understanding the 
laws which govern the reflection of objects in moving 


water. Of course he had great powers of observation, 
and his brain must have been full of facts recorded and 
stored up in his retentive memor}^ ; but the moment he 
tried to marshal his facts or find a reason for the phe- 
nomena he knew so well, he was quite at fault. 

Nevertheless, there can be no doubt that Turner's old 
master, Tom Malton, must have thoroughly grounded his 
unpromising pupil ; for it must be remembered that Turner 
was impenetrably dull when he attended the modest 
little perspective school in Long Acre. And though 
brought back to Maiden Lane as a boy who would never 
do anything, the future professor went once more to 
work and tried again. He must have learnt the practice 
of perspective in the end, for no one could have con- 
structed imaginative pictures such as Regulus^ or Dido 
Building Carthage, without a thorough knowledge of the 
subject. I am afraid his lectures must have been very hard 
to understand, notwithstanding the great pains he took 
to make them intelligible by means of very elaborate 

This year, 1837, the Series of Views in " England and 
Wales," which had met with so little favour that it had 
to be discontinued at the twenty-fourth part, was given 
to Messrs. Southgate for sale by auction, but Turner 
stepped in and bought the whole privately at the re- 
served price of ;^ 3,000. There were a great many buyers 
prepared to purchase portions of the work, and going up 
to one of them, a Mr. Bohn, the artist said: "So, sir, 
you were going to buy my ' England and Wales,' to sell 
cheap, I suppose — make umbrella prints of them, eh? 


But I have taken care of that. No more of my plates 
shall be worn to shadows." The dealer tried to explain 
that he only wanted the printed stock, and Turner said he 
didn't want it, saying, " I only want to keep the coppers 
out of your clutches." So Bohn was told he might come 
to breakfast next morning if he wanted to deal. Next 
day, however, Turner had forgotten all about the break- 
fast, and would not hear of anything less than ;^3,ooo 
for the prints alone. 

In 1838 there were four pictures, one the famous 
Phryne going to the Public Bath as Vemis — Demosthenes 
taunted by ^schines. This is a wonderful procession of 
dancing girls madly throwing a white cupid into the air 
and pirouetting down into a valley. The lady who gives 
her name to the picture is seen seated in a shell-shaped 
car drawn by cupids, and she is also symbolized in the 
foreground by a dog playing with a globe — a suggestion 
of the beautiful courtesan's sport with the Athenian 
world. There is a lake, and the portico of a temple with 
the usual Turner trees. The whole is woven into a be- 
wildering maze of light and colour. Drawing is neglected, 
and the most audacious expedients resorted to, increasing 
the brilliancy and the movement of the throng. Some of 
the faces are white, with vermilion shadows. The head 
of Demosthenes is twisted out of all likeness to human 
form. In fact, everything is sacrificed to colour, not the 
colour of nature, but the tints of some strange dream, in 
which all is unreal and unsubstantial. Turner was sixty- 
three now, and with advancing years was throwing the 
old conventions to the wind, and becoming more and 



'■ '■'; ■ >.v t 

r -VJ^ -J 






more impressionistic, and less and less easy to under- 
stand. Besides the Phryne there were Modern Italy — 
suggested by Tivoli; The Pifferari; and Ancient Italy^- 
Ovid banished from Rome, both painted for Monro of 
Novar. Here is a photo-block from the former picture, 
which was engraved by Miller, who kept one of Turner's 
letters, written whilst the plate was yet unfinished. 


October 22, 1841. 

My Dear Sir, 

So much time (for I only returned from Scotland last 
night) since your letter and the arrival of the proof (for Mr. 
Moon has only sent one), that I hope you have proceeded with 
the plate, in which case it is evident you must take off three 
and mark the two for me, if you adopt the same medium of 
transfer; but, I would say, send them direct. My remarks 
would be wholly yours, and some inconvenience to both 
avoided. If you have not done anything, take off one for me. 
So now to business. 

It appears to me that you have ... so far, that I do think 
I could now recollect sufficiently without the picture before 
me, but will now write points out and answer your questions, 
viz., if the sky you . . . right, you could advance more con- 
fidently ; therefore, do not touch the sky at present, but work 
the rest up to it. The distance may be too dark, though it 
wants more fine work, more character of woods down to the 
very Campagna of Rome, a bare sterile flat much lighter in 

The question of a perpendicular line to this water — pray do 
not think of it until after the very last touched proof, for it has 
a beautiful quality of silvery softness which is only checked by 
the rock, which is the most unfortunate in the whole plate. 
How to advise you here I know not but think fine work would 


114 i-IFE OF J. M. W. TURNER 

blend the scene with the reflection of it in the water. This is 
the worst part, and, I fear, will give us some trouble to con- 
quer; and if you can make it take the water in the middle of 
the plate I should like it better. The houses above, and par- 
ticularly from the figures, and the parts from and with the boys 
looking down, are what I most fear about, which range all 
along the south, and the broken entrance and the shrine want 
more vigour to detach from the town all the corner figures, 
etc. The foreground will be required to be more spirited and 
bold, open work dashing . . . like touches and bright lights. 
So, do all you can in the middle part . . . town, and leave it 
all for the present in front. The figure in front would be better 
with the white cloth over the face done with one line only; 
and perhaps a child wrapped up in swaddling-clothes before 
her would increase the interest of the whole. The ground on 
which she kneels break into small pebbles or broken pave- 
ment. Now for the good parts. The greatest part of the sky, 
all the left side, the upper castles and palaces and partly round 
the sybil temple, town, and ... on the right side, and the 
water in the middle, particularly good, and I hope to keep it 
untouched if possible. 

I am glad to hear you say I can know the picture after the 
first touched proof, and trust this long letter of directions will 
be equal to one, and you will be able to proceed with confid- 
ence. Write if you feel any difficulty, and believe me, truly 


J. M. W. Turner. 

P.S. — Very sorry to hear of the loss you have sustained. 

As I write I have before me a print of Miller's plate 
and a photograph from the picture itself. It is very in- 
teresting to go bit by bit over the two and to notice how- 
painter and engraver worked together, for the plate is 
much more a translation than a copy. Many of the de- 


tails are altered, often, I dare say, by Turner's own 
directions. One may notice that he asks that his own 
unsubstantial foreground may be made more spirited 
and bold, and accordingly Miller has made it much more 
solid and firm than it is in the picture. It seems rather 
odd that the engraver should be asked to add extra 
figures — babes in swaddling clothes. I see that he carried 
out the idea, and also put one more arch to the aqueduct 
on the left. The painting is very fine in colour. I re- 
member taking a Belgian artist to see it some years 
ago. He had never seen any of Turner's work before, 
and the first thing he said was: "Mais c'est un im- 
pressioniste ! " 

The Ancient Italy is quite the classic composition of 
this time of Turner's career. The sun is setting right in 
the middle, over the Pons Aelius, and a bright path of 
glitter shines down the Tiber almost to our feet. A great 
pile of Roman buildings rises on the left, terrace above 
terrace, with many columns, statues, and triumphal 
arches. There are crowds of figures and boats. On the 
shore, in the foreground, are vases and rich furniture, with 
a sarcophagus and a screw jack, and on the other side 
of the river the tomb of Hadrian and three tall columns, 
and, nearer, a round temple with a tile roof, very like 
San Stefano, once called Tempio di Vesta, which stands 
by the Cloaca Maxima. Turner seems to have moved 
them up stream and placed both on the other bank of 
the Tiber. They are painted as though in bright sun- 
light, but real rays could never be so twisted round the 
corner from the sun which is setting in the middle of 


the picture. Then Ovid, who is shown on the shore, 
lived in the time of Augustus, and could hardly have 
seen the tomb of Hadrian, which was not built until at 
least a hundred years later. The tile roof on the temple 
is of course a modern addition, and was not in place in 
the old Roman times. 

I am not suggesting that all these anachronisms make 
Turner's pictures less worthy of our admiration, for 
the qualities which make a really fine work of art 
are quite apart from mere historical correctness, or, 
for that matter, literal truth to nature. Turner cared 
not a jot for either the one or the other. He hardly 
ever tried to produce a transcript of any scene just as it 
appeared to the eye. As I have said many times in this 
history, his work as a whole is almost always untrue to 
nature. His light and shade is very seldom correct. His 
tones are almost always wrong. For instance, he often 
paints white sails or buildings up against a sunset, which 
is a thing impossible, and as for his colour, however it 
may be blended and harmonized into a beautiful whole, 
one can hardly say that it is the colour we see in nature. 
Then his drawing (though no man could draw better 
than Turner when he wished) was often quite grotesque. 
We may find features either squeezed together into one 
corner of a face or slanting diagonally across it like 
handwriting. Anatomy in many cases is quite dis- 
regarded, and as for proportion! We can only say that, 
more often than not, it is altogether absent. Take, for 
instance, these men-o'-war in the drawing opposite. 
They are quite as though modelled in putty, and the 

^/, _ 


fee-; -^ii^^ ^'G^V^fi KTi/, :^^"feSg 



press of sail has twisted them into lopsided monstrosities, 
utterly unlike any craft that ever put to sea. 

What, then, do we admire in Turner's work? And why 
do we place him in the very front of all as a painter? I 
think the real secret of his power lies in his knowledge 
of what is essential to the making of pure art. He k new 
exactly what to do so that his work should appeal to 
tlie mind. He suggested the beauty of nature and its 
infinity, without trying to make an actual copy. Never 
has the profusion and never-ending variety of this won- 
derful world of ours been brought to our senses as per- 
fectly as in the immeasurable stretches of hill and dale, 
winding river, and pale, far-distant ocean of Turner's 
dreamy visions. 

A party of the Academy Club were going down to 
Greenwich, when their steamer passed an old battleship 
in tow. "There's a fine subject for you, Turner," said 
Stanfield, and the result was The Fighting Temeraire 
tugged to her last Berth to be broken rip, 1838. 

The flag which braved the battle and the breeze 
No longer owns her. 

Here nature has been thrown aside altogether. There is 
no attempt to paint a single thing as it really appears. 
The place where the sun is setting is the darkest part of 
the sky. The three-decker is not the sturdy structure of 
heart-of-oak and hemp which pushed its way into the 
thick of the enemy's line at Trafalgar. It is a diaphanous 
spectre of mist and moonbeams rigged with cobweb; 
whilst the tug is the most misshapen craft ever painted — 


mast,funnel,and paddleboxes are jumbled into a confused 
mass. As I said a page or so back, mere truth to nature 
is not essential, provided that some of the beauties which 
abound in nature may be at least suggested. In this 
case I think the beauties are only in the choice of the 
subject, and in the expression of the sentiment that such 
a scene must always produce. Ruskin says : " The paint- 
ing of the Taneraire was received with a general feeling 
of sympathy. No abusive voice, so far as I remember, 
was ever raised against it. And the feeling was just; for 
of all pictures of subjects not visibly involving human 
pain, this is, I believe, the most pathetic that was ever 
painted." Pages by the hundred have been written on 
this one picture, and some of the writers have put down 
a great deal of nonsense. The statements of Thornbury 
are the most untrustworthy; First, he states that the 
" T^m^raire " was a prize taken at the battle of the Nile, 
whilst the truth is that she was built on the Medway at 
Frindsbury. Then he goes on to say that she was the 
second ship in Collingwood's division, whilst, as a matter 
of fact, she was in Nelson's column. Later, he states that 
the " Tem^raire," like a staunch comrade, fell on board the 
"Redoubtable," but James's "Naval History" asserts that 
the " Redoubtable " ran into the " T^meraire." In the 
"Athenaeum" he writes: "The crown and paragon of 
the collection is the Fighting Taneraire tugged to her 
last Berth, which stands out from amongst them as a 
great flame-coloured Mexican cactus, the very emperor 
of flowers, would do in a nosegay of simple primroses. 
We place it first of all his works, because it excels in 




colour all landscapes, we might almost say, in the world 
— we place it first because it excels in colour, and it vvas 
as a colourist that Turner excelled almost all painters." 
Here is another bit of Thornbury's: " Grand and warrior- 
like, stern, like an unconquered veteran, proud of trophy 
and scar, the ' T6m6raire ' moves on with its lance-like 
masts erect, its broad, pale, spectral hull looming stupen- 
dous and threatening over a water red as with the blood 
of past battles." Though, as regards painting, the picture 
was by no means up to Turner's best work, its sentiment 
caused a great stir. One purchaser, who had gone into 
the gallery, early, was so struck by the poetry and beauty 
of the Turner that he went instantly to Queen Anne 
Street, where he had a long and interesting interview 
with the artist, who, though he stated that the Teme- 
7'aire was his 200 guineas size, could not be induced 
to put any price upon it. No doubt he had made up •'_ 
his mind to bequeath it to the nation. On Varnishing 
Day, Geddes, who had a portrait hung over the Thti^- 
raire, seeing that his picture suffered by the glowing 
colours of the sunset below, resolved to paint a bright 
Turkey carpet. He laid in the lower part of his work 
with vermilion and went away. By-and-by up came 
Turner, who saw at once what had been done and ex- 
claiming: "Oh, ho, Mr. Geddes!" rushed off for his 
pallet knife, with which he loaded on orange, scarlet and 

Ancient Rome, Agrippina landing with the Ashes of 
Gennanicus, the Triumphal Bridge and Palace of the 
Caesars restored. 


The clear stream, 
Aye, the yellow Tiber, glimmers to her beam, 
Even while the sun is setting. 

This is one of the vague, indefinite visions of his late 
period, a most splendid scheme of colour; the full moon 
sails in a sky all flushed with the glory of the setting 
sun, and the palaces are a-glow with pale crimson, the 
foreground and the gilded galleys are in shadow, and a 
mist hangs over the river where it rushes through the 
arches. " You might as well have opened a window 
under my picture!" said Northcote, who had a very 
dark subject. Turner has been abused because the real 
landing took place at Brundusium and not at Rome, but 
he might just as well have called this wonderful dream- 
city Brundusium; it would suit quite as well. 

Modern Rome — Canipo Vaccitio. 

The moon is up, and yet it is not night, 
The sun as yet divides the day with her. 

Lord Byron. 

This is another view of the Tiber from the right bank. 
There is a tree and some figures, and in the distance 
St. Peter's and the Vatican. 

Besides these pictures there were Pluto Carrying off 
Proserpine (Ovid's " Metamorphoses "), a rock crowned 
with buildings, cascades, rocks, and sculptured slabs ; and 
a picture of Cicero at his villa. The Fountain of Fallacy 
was shown in the British Institution. 

Its Rainbow dew diffused fell on each anxious lip, 
Working wild fantasy, imagining 


First Science in the immeasurable 

Abyss of thought, 
Measured her orbit slumbering. 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

The next year Turner exhibited seven pictures. ""^^ 
Bacchus and Ariadne, the first, was circular in shape, and, 
strangely enough, he has taken the figures out of Titian's 
great picture in the National Gallery, and has transposed 
then:i into a classic scene of his own. The tall, dark, pear- 
shaped tree is here, also the sun setting in a blaze of 
light and reflected in the still water. There are arched 
rocks, wooded hills, and ruined temples, with more 
sculptured stones right in the foreground. But one 
wonders what Titian's nymphs and deities are doing in 
Turner's landscape. 

Venice — The Bridge of Sighs. 

I stood upon a bridge, a palace and a prison on each hand. 
— Byron. 

This is not at all a sombre picture; both the ducal 
palace and the prison are as bright as they can be. 
There are plenty of gay ladies in queer-shaped boats all 
doing nothing in particular unless perhaps they may be 
trying to group themselves to set off the white buildings. 
The best thing in the whole composition is the peep up 
the Rio della Paglia, and indeed one cannot help feeling 
that if the greater part of the two sides were cut away, 
leaving only the little canal and the two bridges with 
their reflections in the water, the whole picture would 
be very much improved, 

Venice from the Canale della Giudecca, Chiesa di 



5, Maria della Salute, etc. This is a much better 
arranged subject than the last. The Bridge of Sighs is 
again seen nearly in the middle of the picture, but this 
time it is much further off, and the whole front of the 
Doges' palace, and behind the tower of St. Mark's drawn 
very much slimmer than the real bell tower was. This 
went into the collection of John Sheepshank, and is now 
at South Kensington. 

There was a nightmare of a picture: Slavers throwing 
overboard the Dead a?id Dying — Typhoon coming on. 

Aloft all hands, strike the topmasts and belay; 

Yon angry setting sun and fierce-edged clouds 

Declare the Typhoon's coming. 

Before it sweeps your decks throw overboard 

The dead and dying — ne'er heed their chains. 

Hope, Hope, fallacious Hope! 

Where is thy market now? 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

Here there is the red sunset that the painter is said to 
have always introduced when he wished to suggest 
bloodshed and death. The ship is sailing away and a 
long lines of slaves are struggling in the sea among the 
sharks and gulls, and throwing up their fettered limbs. 
It would have been very horrible had it been painted in 
more realistic fashion. 

Then there was a little panel, now in the National 
Gallery: The New Moon; or, '' Pve lost my Boat, you 
shan't have your Hoop!' In spite of its bizarre title, this 
is a very delicate, poetic twilight. It shows a wide 
stretch of shining wet sand on which are dotted, children, 


dogs, and other figures; a lighthouse is seen in the 
distance, and a steamer. 

The next is also a sea shore, but now the surf is 
breaking on the shingle under a stormy sky. It was 
called Rockets and Blue Lights (Close at Hand to warn 
Steamboats of Shoal-water). 

Last there was another panel — Neapolitan Fisher-girls 
surprised bathing by Moonlight. I have never seen this 

In 1 841 Turner sent six pictures to the Academy. 
The Ducal Palace Dogano, with part of San Giorgio, 
Venice, which was bought by Sir Francis Chantrey on 
varnishing day, without his even seeing it, for ;^250. After 
the sculptor died, the picture was sold at Christie's for 
the sum of ;i6^i,500. At the time this was considered an 
enormous sum — and again the purchaser had not seen 
the work. The second was Giudecca la Donna della 
Salute and Sa?i Giorgio. The island is seen in the 
middle, and the Riva degli Schiavoni on the right. 
Roseneu, Seat of H.R.H. Prijice Albert of Coburg, near 
Coburgy Germany. 

Depositing of fohn Bellini's three Pictures in La 
Chiesa Redcntore, Venice. The state barge, covered with 
flags and flowers, is moving down the canal of the 
Giudecca escorted by a fleet of gondolas. Then there 
was a circular picture, Dawn of Christianity. 

Flight into Egypt, 

That star has risen. 


and Glaucus and Scylla (Ovid's " Metamorphoses "). 


In November of this year Turner lost another of his 
old friends, Chantrey, with whom he had fished and 
boated in the happy days at Twickenham. Thornbury 
tells, how the old man called and found Jones, his crony, 
in the chamber of death, how he could not speak a 
word, but wrung his hand and then rushed out of the 

Next year Wilkie died near Gibraltar, and was buried 
at sea. Turner and Jones agreed that they would com- 
memorate Wilkie by each painting his funeral. Jones 
treated it as a figure picture seen from the deck of the 
ship. Turner painted the steamer itself, and, to give it a 
look of mourning, made the sails quite black. Stanfield, 
who saw the picture on varnishing day, thought the 
effect of the sails untrue, but Turner would not alter 
them, saying, " I only wish I had any colour to make 
them blacker." The title given was Peace — Burial at 

The midnight torch gleamed o'er the steamer's side, 
And merit's corse was yielded to the tide. 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

As a companion to this Turner painted also War — 
the Exile and the Rock-Limpet. 

Ah ! thy tent-formed shell is like 
A soldier's mighty bivouac alone, 
Amidst a sea of blood . . . 
. . . but can you join your comrades? 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

Of course the sea of blood is represented by a crimson 

H aii/stiingl photo\ 



sunset. Napoleon, in cocked hat and jack boots, is stand- 
ing on some rocks among the puddles at low water, and 
the reflection of his legs (which are wide apart) in the 
calm pools gives the figure a very comical appearance. 
The papers made fun of it. " Punch " printed a sort of 
parody which was called The Duke of Wellington and 
the Shrimp, and there were also imitations of that 
mystic manuscript "The Fallacies of Hope." Gilbert a 
Beckett laughed at the poor old painter in his " Almanac 
of the Month." Thackeray said sarcastic things in 
" Ainsworth's Magazine." 

Among the Turner pictures most jeered at was Snow- 
storm — Steamboat off a Harbour's Mouth making Signals 
in shallow Water and going by the Lead. The Author 
was in this storm on the night the Ariel left Harwich. 
This was called in one paper " A Typhoon bursting in a 
Simoon over the Whirlpool of Maelstrom, Norway; with 
a ship on fire, an eclipse and the effect of a lunar 

O, Art, how vast thy mighty wonders are 

To those who roam upon the extraordinary deep; 

Maelstrom, thy hand is here. 

From an unpublished poem. 

Another writer spoke of it as soapsuds and whitewash. 
I am afraid some of these jokes caused Turner great 
pain. " A man may be weak in his age," he said to 
Ruskin once; *' but you should not tell him so." Another 
day he repeated from time to time " soapsuds and white- 
wash! I wonder what they think the sea's like?" We 


know thatTurner himself never said a depreciatory word 
of any man's work. Possibly he may have felt the truth 
of a saying which I have heard expressed by a more 
modern artist thus: "In the sight of God we are all 

Poor old Turner! (He was sixty-seven, remember.) 
He had put to sea in the snowstorm; so determined was 
he to study the tempest that he made the sailors lash 
him down where he could watch the great waves and 
drink in the scene. He stayed four hours, and when he 
tried to record his impressions and give his rendering 
of what he felt and saw, the critics laughed at him and 
called his work " soapsuds and whitewash." What did 
these men know of the sea or of art? Nothing, I fancy, 
for, by a sort of perverseness, they hit upon just the very 
picture which shows no signs of waning power. Turner 
never painted better sky or water than this. There is 
nothing fantastic or strange about the choppy waves, 
which are really very like actual rollers when we see 
them face to face, and are right in midst of them. The 
steamer I must admit is rather a puzzle (I am not quite 
sure which is stem and which is stern). This I fancy 
helps to give a sort of vague horror to the scene, whilst 
a very correctly drawn vessel with all its running rig- 
ging rove rightly would not have the same effect. 

There were two more paintings of the city of the 
Adriatic, The Dogana, San Giorgio, Citella, from the 
steps of the Eiiropa, and Cauipo Santo, Venice. 

And now his mighty champion began to fill the land 
with praise of Turner's work. This year, 1843, John 


Ruskin published the first volume of " Modern Painters." 
Such a wonderful book on art had never before been 
written. The old masters were taken to task with subtle 
reasoning, and Turner was lauded and put in the place 
of honour high above them all. Meanwhile the old 
painter worked away, troubling his head very little about 
the genius and eloquence of his youthful disciple. " My 
own admiration of him," says Mr. Ruskin, " was wild 
enthusiasm; but it gave him no ray of pleasure. He 
could not make me at that time understand his main 
meaning. He loved me but cared nothing for what I 
said." Always accumulative and versatile, he still 
tramped about making drawings of everything. He was 
seen on board the " Magnet," the old Margate steamer, 
watching the effect of the sun and the boiling of the 
foam in the wake; and at lunch time eating shrimps out 
of an immense red silk handkerchief laid across his 

King Ludwig of Bavaria built a Walhalla, a sort of 
Doric temple, on a hill overlooking the Danube and 
placed in it two hundred marble busts of eminent 
Germans. It was opened in October and the event 
struck Turner's fancy; so he painted a picture of the 
subject and composed some new lines under a French 
title, "L'houneur au Roi de Baviere" : 

Who rode on thy relentless car, fallacious Hope? 
He, though scathed at Ratisbon, poured on 
The tide of war, o'er all thy plain, Bavare, 
Like the swollen Danube to the gates of Wien. 
But peace returns — the morning ray 


Beams on the Walhalla, reared to science and the arts 
And men renowned of German fatherland. 

MS. Fallacies of Hope. 

In the picture we look over the river to the temple 
which stands upon a hill near a sloping bridge ; beyond 
are misty mountains and the valley winding away into 
space. The foreground is crowded with hundreds of 
figures sitting and kneeling about; there are musical 
instruments, a baby in a cradle, and what looks like a 
fountain. I have no idea what meaning is meant to be 
conveyed by all this. Turner in his admiration of the 
King sent the picture to him as a present; but his 
Majesty, who perhaps had never heard of Turner, and 
did not understand his picture, sent the gift back again. 
It now hangs in the National Gallery. 
The Sun of Venice going to Sea. 

Fair shines the morn and soft the zephyr blows; 
Venicia's fisher spreads his sail so gay, 
Nor heeds the demon that in grim repose 
Expects his evening prey. 

Here is a note of Ruskin's with regard to the title : 
" Turner seems to have revised his own additions to 
Gray in the catalogues as he did his pictures on the 
walls, with much discomfiture to the printer and the 
public. He wanted afterwards to make the first lines of 
this legend rhyme with each other, and to read : 

Fair shines the morn the Zephyr (west wind) blows a gale, 
Venetia's fisher spreads his painted sail. 

The two readings got confused, and if I remember aright 


some of the catalogues read, " Soft the Zephyr blows a 
gale, and spreads his painted sail so gay " — to the great 
admiration of the collectors of the Sibylline leaves of 
the " Fallacies of Hope." 

Like almost all of Turner's later pictures, it has suf- 
fered with time. The sky has darkened and become 
spotted, and Ruskin says much of the transparency in 
the green ripples is gone. The very white ducal palace 
and the domes of St. Mark hardly show in a photograph, 
but can still be seen in the picture itself, which is even 
yet a very fine example of the master. 

Another Venetian picture this year was Dogana and 
Madonna della Salute^ Venice; and besides, there were 
two strange subjects, Shade and Darkness, and The 
Evening of the Deluge. 

The moon puts forth her signs of woe unheeded; 
But disobedience slept; the darkening Deluge 

Closed around, 
And the last token came; the giant frame-work floated, 
The scared birds forsook their nightly shelter screaming, 
And the beasts waded to the Ark. 

Fallacies of Hope, 

In this picture, which is in the National Gallery, the 
animals are crowded on the rocks, which are being slowly 
covered by the rising water. A heavy cloud hangs over- 
head, and in the distance mountains shine in the light 
of the setting sun. 

Light and Colour {Goethe's Theory), The Morning 
after the Deluge, Moses writing the Book of Genesis. 




The Ark stood firm on Ararat; th' returning sun 
Exhaled earth's humid bubbles, and emulous of light 
Reflected her lost forms, each in prismatic guise 
Hope's harbinger, ephemeral as the summer fly 
Which rises, flits, expands, and dies. 

Fallacies of Hope. 

The sun is shining, and in its rays an endless procession 
of figures advance. In the clouds is a seated figure, I 
suppose Moses, and below him a coiled serpent. 

St. Benedetto looking towards Fiisina. This picture is 
sometimes called the approach to Venice, but this title 
was given by Turner to another work exhibited in the 
following year, and sold in the Academy. Ruskin says, 
"Even San Benedetto is a mistake of Turner's; there 
being no church nor quarter belonging to that saint on 
either side of the Giudecca, or in any possible way in- 
cluded in this view." Further on he says, " The buildings 
on the right are also, for the most part, imaginary in their 
details, especially in the pretty bridge which connects 
two of their masses; and yet without one single accurate 
detail, the picture is the likest thing to what it is meant 
for — the looking out of the Giudecca landward at sunset 
— of all that I have ever seen." 

There is a long description in Thornbury of a visit 
paid by a Mr. Hammersley to Queen Anne Street, from 
which I have taken the following : " I left the door, 
walked across the street, looked at the house, gained 
breath, for I had nearly run all the way from Somerset 
House, and foolish as it will appear, I could have wor- 
shipped the dirty windows that let in light enough to 


one whose soul saw at all times the whole brilliancy of 
Nature." At last, when steady and calm, the young 
man knocked at the door, and the old housekeeper, 
tardily enough, opened the door and let him into the 
dining-room. " I waited there for a short time, all eyes, 
all ears, when I heard a shambling, slippered footstep 
down a flight of stairs — slow measured, yet as of one 
who was regardless of style or promptitude — what the 
world calls shambling, in fact. When the door opened, 
I, nobody, stood face to face with, to my thinking, the 
greatest man living. I shall attempt no description ; you 
know how he looked, I saw at once his height, his 
breadth, his loose dress, his ragged hair, his indifferent 
quiet — all, indeed, that went to make his pJiysique and 
some of his mind; but, above all, I saw, felt (and still 
feel) his penetrating gray eye." 

They went out of the cold, cheerless room, to the 
gallery, which was even less tidy and more forlorn. " It 
was an Art chaos, all confusion, mouldiness, and wretched 
litter — most of the pictures, indeed, all those nestling 
against the wall, being covered with uncleanly sheets." 
Turner took these off, and disclosed to Hammersley's 
wondering and reverent observation many of the works 
that are now so well known. After about five minutes 
Turner turned quickly and said, " This gallery is cold ; 
pray keep your hat on "; but the young enthusiast told 
him that he could not think of being covered in his 
presence. " He looked at me very steadily and said, 
* Mr. Hammersley, I shall feel much more comfortable 
myself if you will comply with my wishes in this respect.' " 


Here is a description of a second visit a little later: 
" I entered the dingy dining-room as before, and was 
immediately joined by Turner, who, as before, led me up 
to his gallery. Our proceedings then resembled our pro- 
ceedings on the former visit, distinguished from it, how- 
ever, by the exceeding taciturnity, yet restlessness of 
my great companion, who walked about and occasionally 
clutched a letter which he held in his hand. I feared to 
break the dead silence, varied only by the slippered 
scrape of Turner's feet as he paced from end to end of 
the dim and dusty apartment. At last he stood abruptly, 
and turning to me, said, ' Mr. Hammersley, you must 
excuse me, I cannot stay another moment; the letter I 
hold in my hand has just been given to me, and it 
announces the death of my friend Callcott.' He said no 
more; I saw his fine gray eyes fill as he vanished, and 
I left at once." 

In 1839 there were seven pictures in the Academy: 
Ostend, a tumbling sea at the entrance to a harbour; 
fishing boats are in the calm water inside, and there is 
a tall lighthouse and some windmills partly seen through 
the mist. 
^J'^ifL Fishing boats bringing a disabled ship into Port 
Ruysdael. There is no such harbour. Turner gave the title 
to show his admiration for the Dutch painter of that 
name. This is a very brilliant work, touched in as only 
the master could. The heave of the water, and the 
vivacity of the boats is perfect. Of course the eye was 
not so keen or the hand so steady as in past times. We 
see everything blurred, as though through a white mist. 


Rain, Steam, and Speed; the Great Western Railway. 
Though there are some fine qualities in the sky and dis- 
tance, there is so littlemake andshapeabout thebridge and 
engine that the whole is rather unsatisfying. One cannot 
help thinking that Brunei built a rather more solid fabric 
than is here suggested. One thing one may remark, that 
Turner, who began work in the days of stage coaches 
and highwaymen, saw nothing unpicturesque or common- 
place in the iron horse. 

Van Tromp going about to please his master, ships a sea, 
getting a good wetting. ( Vide " Lives of Dutch Painters.") 
I do not know the story referred to, but the Admiral 
is represented in a small vessel flying big flags, and with 
the celebrated broom at the masthead. There are many 
boats crowded with figures. 

Venice — Maria della Salute, another of the misty ren- 
derings of this well-worn subject. 

Approach to Venice. 

The path lies o'er the sea invisible; 

And from the land we went 

As to a floating city, steering in. 

And gliding up her streets as in a dream. 

So smoothly, silently. 

Rogers's Italy. 

The moon is up, and yet it is not night; 
The sun as yet disputes the day with her. 


Venice, Quay, Ducal Palace. Many fishing-boats and 
gondolas alongside, and in the distance the towers of 
Saint Mark and San Zaccaria. 


Turner's last Swiss journey was in 1845. Old age was 
coming on. He is now described as stooping very much 
and always looking down. He had a habit of sticking 
his hands into his coat pockets and of muttering to him- 
self. He was very much interested in light, and would 
ask endless questions of Brewster as to all that was 
known on that subject. Wilkie Collins, who used to carry 
his father's colour-box to the varnishing days, remem- 
bers that Turner, not the more perfect in his balance for 
the brown sherry of the Academy lunch, would sit on 
the top of a flight of steps, or a box, like a shabby 
Bacchus nodding at his pictures. In these latter years it 
was often his habit to send in his pictures only laid in 
with white and gray, and do nearly all the finishing on 
the varnishing days. There were four days of this kind 
each year, and on those four days Turner worked from 
morning to night. 

This year there were two pictures of whalers {vide 
Beale's "Voyage," pages 163 and 175), and four of 
Venice, each with note, " MS. Fallacies of Hope," but 
with no verses. Perhaps some ruthless compiler of the 
Academy catalogue cut them out, or was it rather that 
Turner did not feel equal to composing his ponderous 

In 1846 there were six more: Returning from the 
Ball, {St. Martha); Going to the Ball, {San Martino); 
Hurrah for the Whaler Erebus ! another fish I — Beales 
' Vofage'; Undine giving the Ring to Masaniello, 
Fisherman of Naples; and The Angel standing ifi the 


And I saw an angel standing in the sun; and he cried with 
a loud voice, saying to all the fowls that fly in the midst of 
heaven, Come and gather yourselves together unto the supper 
of the great God; 

That ye may eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of captains 
and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses and of 
them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men both free and 
bond, both small and great. — Revelation^ xix, 17, 18. 

The march of arms which glittering in the sun, 
The feast of vultures ere the day was done. 


Whalers {boiling blubber) entangled in flaw ice, endeavour- 
ing to extricate themselves. The greater part of these pic- 
tures are in the National Gallery, and they show Turner's 
wonderful versatility. Old as he was, he was always try- 
ing new experiments and combinations. Some of the 
whaling subjects are very suggestive of the cold mists 
and strange effects of the polar sea. In others the ghosts 
of gondolas drift on pale yellow glassy lagunes melting 
into opal skies ; snow- white domes rise above dream cities 
of pearl and amber, peopled by vague forms, vapour in 
human shape. 

Turner's mind was to the last the mind of a child, 
always receptive and inquisitive. Photography was quite 
in its infancy in these days, and Mr. Mayall tells how 
the painter, who, though he gave his name correctly, 
pretended to be a Master in Chancery, called at his 
studio time after time, always wishing to try curious 
effects of light, and always asking questions. Mayall 
took several daguerreotypes of his visitor, one in the act 


of reading, a position rather favourable, for Turner's eyes 
were weak and bloodshot. He was much taken with a 
photograph of Niagara, and was never tired of hearing 
a description of it. " In short, he had come so often and 
in such an unobtrusive manner that he had come to be 
regarded by all my people as ' Our Mr. Turner.' 

" I was at that time a struggling artist, much devoted 
to improving my art, and had just bought a large lens in 
Paris, six inches in diameter. I let Turner look through 
it, and the expressions of surprise and admiration were 
such that I ought at once to have known him in his true 
character; however, he was very kind to me, and by 
some sort of innuendo he kept up his Mastership in 
Chancery so well that I did not. Whatever others may 
have said of his parsimonious habits, I cannot recollect 
one act of his that would lead me to infer that he was 
other than a liberal, kind-hearted old gentleman." 

This went on until 1848, when Mayall met Turner at 
a soiree of the Royal Society. The painter at once began 
to speak of his old topic of the spectrum, and some one 
coming up asked the photographer if he knew that he 
was speaking to the Turner. It seems as though the 
painter did not care to be known in his true character, 
for though, before he parted with Mayall he promised to 
call and conduct some more experiments, he never went 
to the little shop in the Strand again. A love of mystery 
was strongly marked in Turner's character. The York- 
shire Stingo was at one time one of his haunts, but at 
last he was recognized there by a friend, and at once gave 
it up. Thornbury says a great deal of what he calls 


Turner's selfish, brooding, solitary life, making out that 
this led to a vicious old age. I don't know why the great 
painter's little peccadilloes should have been branded 
with such hard names. He was not a bit more vicious 
than thousands of old bachelors whose deeds are never 
questioned by the world. There is no proof that his four 
illegitimate children were neglected, or that his mistresses 
were abandoned. As to the low sailors' haunts in Wap- 
ping or Rotherhithe, where he was supposed to wallow 
from Saturday to Monday, one would like to know 
where the author picked up his authority. Then, when 
Thornbury goes on to call him " mean, grinding, par- 
simonious to the degree almost of disease," one won- 
ders if the literary man's love of strong contrasts has 
not led him to load the blacks in his shadows a little 
too thick. 

That the old man took a little too much wine at times 
is, I think, true enough, but in the forties such little weak- 
nesses were not much thought of. 

In 1 847 Turner exhibited The Hero of a Hundred 
Fights. ''An idea suggested by the German invocation 
upon casting the bell, in England called tapping the 

The following year he did not exhibit, and both the 
pictures exhibited in 1849 had been begun years before. 
The Wreck Buoy was an early work painted at the mouth 
of the Thames off Reculver, but quite at the end of his 
life Turner spent six laborious days upon it, much to 
Mr. Munro's horror. A green wreck buoy is dancing on 
a stormy sea, and a double rainbow spans the sky. 


Venus and Adonis \vd.s also an early work, painted before 
1812; it was sold by a Mr. Green in 1830 to Munro. 
Mercury sent to admonish Aeneas (1850). 

Beneath the morning mist 
Mercury waited to tell him of his neglected fleet. 

The sun is rising through vapour over an inlet bordered 
by rocky slopes and classic ruins ; besides the two per- 
sonages mentioned in the title, there are some women 
and children, and a dreamy procession of figures floating 
on the waves. 

j^neas relating his Story to Dido. 

Fallacious hope beneath the moon's pale crescent shone, 
Dido listened to Troy being lost and won. 

On a classic harbour surrounded by fortified buildings, 
near a city upon a Steep hill, is a galley with a canopy, 
followed by boats. There are trees, and a rainbow in the 

The Visit to the Tomb. 

The sun went down in wrath at such deceit. . . . 

/Eneas, wearing a red cloak and plumed helmet, is seen 
near the entrance to the tomb of Anchises ; Venus stands 
at the foot of a group of trees with Cupid. The sun is 
setting over an estuary, in which are some ships, and 
beyond is a classic city. 
The Departure of the Fleet. 

The orient moon shone on the departing fleet. 
Nemesis invoked, the priest held the poisoned cup. 


Dido is lamenting on the bank, whilst the galleys of 
^neas get under way. These four pictures were the last 
the old painter ever sent to the Academy. He was not 
an exhibitor in 1851 ; but he came to the private view, 
and all who saw him remarked what a change had come 
over him. He was shaky and feeble, and his sturdy, 
dogged look was gone. 

Many of his friends knew that the old painter had 
another home besides the dingy house in Queen Anne 
Street, but knowing his secretive nature, they did not 
dare to speak openly. Some one must have taken care 
of him, for he was cleaner and more tidy than he used to 
be. His red velvet waistcoat and starched shirts, his 
clean-shaved face and shiny boots were quite in contrast 
to what he had worn a short time before. 

Turner was very mysterious about his quarters. One 
day, in a shower, an artist took shelter in a public-house, 
where he found the old Academician sitting in the farthest 
corner with his glass in front of him. The friend said, 
" I didn't know you used this house; I shall often drop 
in now I've found out where you quarter." Turner 
emptied his glass, and as he went out said, " Will you? I 
don't think you will." Wishing for a change he had gone 
along the river bank at Chelsea until he found a cottage 
with a flat railed-in roof from which he could study the 
sunrises and sunsets. When the landlady suggested a 
reference, he said, " My good woman, I'll buy the house 
outright." Then she proposed to draw up an agreement, 
but he brought out a roll of bank-notes and offered to 
pay in advance. When asked his name, he demanded 


of the landlady her name. She said she was Mrs. 
Booth. "Then," said Turner, " I'm Mr. Booth," and so 
it came to pass that the great artist was known along 
the water-side as " Puggy Booth," or sometimes " the 
Admiral " when people wished to be more respectful. 

Up to the very last he would often rise at daybreak to 
watch the colour slowly coming into the eastern sky. 
With nothing but a blanket or a dressing-gown over 
him, he would stand on the little railed-in roof. 

Here is a letter posted from Chelsea about this time. 
It is an example of Turner's involved and confused 
style, and the spelling is rather queer now and again. 

Dear Hawkesworth, 

Mother Goose came to a rehearsal before Christmas 
Day, having arrived on Saturday for the knife, and could not 
be resisted, in my drinking your good health in a glass of wine 
to all friends at Farnley Hall, also wishing happiness and the 
comp^' of the seasoii to all. The pie is in most excellent taste, 
and shall drink the same thanks on Christmas day. Many 
thanks for the brace of pheasants and hares — by the same 
train; indeed I think it fortunate, for with all the strife and 
strike of pokers and stokers for the railroads — their commons 
every day growing worse — in shareholders and directors squab- 
bUng about the winding up of the last Bill, to come to some 
end for those Unes known or supposed to be in difficulty. 

Ruskin has been in Switzerland with his whife this summer 
and now said to be in Venice. Since the revolution shows not 
any damage to the works of high Art it contains, in Rome not 
so much as might have been expected. Had the "Transfigura- 
tion" occupied its old situation, the St. Pietro Montoreo, it 
most possibly must have suffered, for the church is completely 
riddled with shot and balls. The convent on Mount Aventine 


much battered with cannon-balls, and Casino Magdalene, near 
the Porto Angelino nearly destroyed ; occurred by taking and 
storming the Bastion No. 8. 

This is from an eye-witness who returned to London since 
the siege by Gen. Oudinot. 

I am sorry to say my health is much on the wain. I cannot 
bear the same fatigue, or have the same bearing against it, I 
formerly had — but time and tide stop not — but I must stop 
writing for to-day, and so I again beg to thank you for the 
Christmas present. 

Believe me most truly 

Your oblidged Servant 
W. H. Fawkes, Esq., J. M. W. Turner. 

Farnly Hall. 

The Mother Goose is an allusion to the Yorkshire pie 
which was sent to him every year from Farnley Hall. 

In 1 85 1 his friends noticed that Turner no longer /u-^'- 
came to the meetings of the Academy Council — he who 
had always been so regular an attendant. David Roberts 
wrote on behalf of his brother painters, saying how sorry 
they were not to see him, and begging Turner if he were 
ill to let him know so that he might come and see him ; 
adding that the secret of his dwelling-place should not 
be revealed if he desired it should be kept unknown. 
Turner did not write in answer to this letter; but two 
weeks afterwards he came to Roberts's studio in Fitzroy 
Square sadly changed and broken. He was deeply 
moved by the letter his friend had written, and said, 
" You must not ask me ; but whenever I come to town 
I will always come to see you." " I tried to cheer him 
up," says Roberts, " but he laid his hand upon his heart 


and replied, 'No, no; there is something here which is 
all wrong.' As he stood by the table in my painting- 
room I could not help looking attentively at him, peering 
in his face, for the small eye was as brilliant as that of a 
child, and unlike the glazed and ' lack lustre eye ' of 
age. This was my last look. The rest is soon told. 
None of his friends had seen him for months; indeed I 
believe I was the last, together with my friend George 
Jones, who I afterwards learnt had that day received a 
visit from him." Once only after this did he visit his 
friend. It was some two months before his death. 

Poor Mrs. Danby, once his mistress and now the 
guardian of the dingy house in Queen Anne Street, was 
still more troubled at Turner's absence. She was sure he 
was ill, and yet knew not where to find him in all the 
countless streets of London. But one day, turning over 
his clothes, she found in one of the pockets a letter from 
someone in Chelsea. There she thought he might be, 
and so, attended by another old woman as infirm as she 
was herself, journeyed down to the river side, and at last, 
at a gingerbeer shop, got some news which satisfied her 
that the old gentleman who lived next door must be the 
great painter himself. To her great grief she learned 
that he had been very ill, and had seldom been out for 
the last two months. Mrs. Danby went at once back to 
Mr. Harpur, who was one of Turner's executors, and he 
hastened down to Chelsea only in time to find the 
painter fast sinking. Turner had, it would appear, sent 
for a well-known doctor from Margate, and when he told 
him that death was near, he said, " Go downstairs, take a 



glass of sherry, and then look at me again. ' The doctor 
did so, but could not alter his judgment; he failed to 
make Turner believe that the end was so close. Even 
within his last hour the landlady wheeled his chair to 
the window so that he might once more look out upon 
the great river and the sunshine that he loved so well. 
Perhaps he noted the whole scene for future use just as 
he had done thousands of times before, for the ruling 
passion is strong even in death, A little later Mrs. Booth 
drew up the blind and the soul of the great painter 
passed to his Maker whilst the sun was shining upon 
his face. 

Who shall say that his life was not a happy one? He 
was always toiling and striving, but then Turner loved 
hard work and effort, and was never so joyous as when 
he was trying to outdo some great forerunner. His sur- 
roundings were squalid and uncomfortable, but these 
two words had no meaning to the sturdy enthusiast who 
could cheerfully dine off bread and cheese, sleep on a 
chair with his elbow on a table, and rise and go off to his 
work before six in the morning; or who at a later time 
in his life would have himself lashed for four hours to a 
mast in a storm so that he might study the forms of the 
great waves as they broke over the ship. 

His sordid money squabbles must be set off against 
the pleasure he took in thinking of the gift he was going 
to present to his struggling fellow painters, for the 
savings of a lifetime were to be spent in founding a 
great almshouse for decayed artists. 

Turner chose to go away and die among strangers 


who knew neither his name or his greatness because he 
hated to have a fuss made over him. I think Thornbury 
was only trying to force the effect when he made out 
that "having no reHgious hope he must have realized the 
miserable insufficiency of all his fame and wealth," and 
that " the dark dread of annihilation overpowered his 
heart." Ruskin also works upon our ieelings by drawing 
a sort of fancy picture of Turner's life and death when 
he writes: "Imagine, any of you, the effect upon your 
own minds, if every voice that you heard from the human 
beings around you were raised, year after year, through 
all your lives, only in condemnation of your efforts and 
denial of your success. This may be borne, and borne 
easily, by men who have fixed religious principles, or 
supporting domestic ties. But Turner had no one to 
teach him in his youth, and no one to love him in his 
old age. Respect and affection, if they came at all, came 
too late. Naturally irritable, though kind — naturally sus- 
picious, though generous — the gold gradually became 
dim, and the most fine gold changed, or if not changed, 
clouded and overcast. The deep heart was still beating; 
but it was beneath a dark and melancholy mail, between 
whose joints, however, sometimes the slightest arrows 
found entrance and power of giving pain. He received 
no consolation in his last years or in his death." 

This is very beautiful writing, but is not the truth. 
Turner had many to teach him. His father gave him 
every possible help. His fellow painters were full of 
admiration for his work, and he had many staunch 
friends to the last. I think my readers will agree with 

H atifstiingl fihoto] 

turner's palette 


me, that he hved a prosperous and fairly happy life, and 
that his end was by no means miserable, but such as he 
himself would have wished. 

Mr. Trimmer describes how he went to the dismal 
house in Queen Anne Street, and how altered it was 
from the time when he used to have his pockets filled 
with biscuits by Turner after the olden fashion. Now 
all had the silence of death. The Centaurs in conflict 
ivitJi the Lapithae in the hall; a Wilson obscured by 
smoke; the bare, unfurnished room filled with partly 
finished pictures, some laid in with white, others with 
large masses of half tint and white as preparation, placed 
carelessly against the wall, the damp of which had 
damaged the colours or had taken them off altogether. 
In the sleeping apartment Mr. Trimmer was surprised 
that a person of Turner's means could have lived in 
such a room: "certainly he prized modern luxuries at a 
very modest rate." 

" In the studio always, during his lifetime, enshrined in 
mystery and the object of profound speculation, his 
gloves and neck handkerchief lay on a circular table 
which had in the middle a raised box, with a circle in 
the centre with side compartments. In the centre were 
his colours, cobalt, ultramarine of various depths, smalts, 
also some verditer. The colours were mixed daily with 
cold-drawn oil, and he was very particular. If they were 
not to his mind he would say to Mrs. Danby, ' Can't you 
set a palette better than this? ' " 

His travelling library, Young's " Night Thoughts," 
Izaak Walton and a translation of Horace, lay there. 



" There was a small deal box on a side table, the lid 
of which my father raised to show me its contents. It 
was covered with a glass, and under it was the cast of 
the great Turner; ' Dear old Turner.' There he lay with 
his eyes sunk and his lips fallen in. He reminded me 
strongly of his old father whom, long years before, I had 
seen trudging to Brentford market from Sandicombe 
Lodge to lay in his week's supplies. 

"Alas for humanity! this was the man whom in my 
childhood I had attended with my father, and had been 
drawn by, on the banks of the Thames; whom I had 
seen sketching with such glee on the river's banks, as I 
gathered wild flowers in my earliest years, who had 
stuffed my pockets with sweetmeats, had loaded me with 
fish, and made me feel as happy as a prince. 

" On his calm face were written the marks of age and 
wreck, of dissolution and reblending with the dust. This 
was the man whose worst productions contained more 
poetry and genius than the most laboured efforts of his 
brother artists; who was the envy of his rivals, and the 
admiration of all whose admiration was worth having; 
nor was it without emotion or with a dry eye that I 
gazed on so sad a sight." 

There was a long procession of mourning coaches and 
private carriages to Saint Paul's Cathedral. Mr. Harpur, 
as chief mourner, wore the crape hatband and scarf con- 
sidered proper to the occasion in those days. 

There were mutes and pall-bearers and a great gather- 
ing of artists and men of note who came to pay the last 
tribute of respect to all that remained of the painter- 


poet who had toiled for so many long years, building up 
those marvellous creations before which we still stand 
and wonder. Dean Milman read the service, and the 
organ pealed the Dead March in Saul. Then the coffin 
was deposited in one of the vaults alongside Sir Joshua 
Reynolds. It bore this inscription: "Joseph Mallord 
Turner, Esq., R.A., died Dec. 19, 1851, aged 79 years." 
But this was a mistake, for he was really only seventy- 

"The Times" of December 23rd, 185 1, has the fol- 
lowing patronizing notice: "The Fine Arts in this 
country have not produced a more remarkable man than 
Joseph Mallord William Turner, whose death it was yes- 
terday our duty to record ; and although it would here 
be out of place to revive the discussion occasioned by 
the peculiarities of Mr. Turner's style in his later years, 
he has left behind him sufficient proofs of the variety 
and fertility of his genius to establish an undoubted 
claim to a prominent rank among the painters of Eng- 
land." The article goes on to give a few samples of the 
prices paid for his pictures, and speaks of £600 as an 
enormous sum for a sketchbook of drawings of the Rivers 
of France. 

Turner's will was a very complicated affair, not easy 
to follow, for codicils were added from time to time re- 
voking what had gone before. The will and codicils in 
Thornbury's " Life of Turner " cover eight pages of small 
print. After some bequests to his uncles and nephews 
he leaves ;^5o a year to his old housekeeper, and the 
same sum to her two nieces. To the National Gallery 


he leaves Dido building Cartilage and TJie Sun rising 
through Vapour, but on the condition that they were to 
be hung between two pictures by Claud called The Sea 
Port and The Mill. With the residue of his funded pro- 
perty he designed to found a charity for decayed artists 
of the male sex born in England of English parents 
only and of lawful issue. The institution was to be called 
"Turner's Gift." This will was dated June loth, 1831. 

Then come codicils. The first, August 20th, 1832, 
directs that a gallery is to be erected to hold his pic- 
tures, keeping them together so that they may be viewed 
gratuitously; but if it was found impossible to fully carry 
the same into effect within five years of his death, then 
the executors were to keep all the pictures entire and 
unsold at N0.47, Queen Anne Street,and appoint Hannah 
Danby the custodian with £100 a year and £^0 for as- 
sistance. " Georgianna " and Evelina Danby were to have 
;^ioo a year each. " And every year on the 23rd of April 
(my birthday) a dinner to the sum of ;^50 to all the 
Members of Academy and if 60 more will be left to be 
for a Professor in Landscape to be read in the Royal 
Academy elected from the Royal Academicians or a 
Medal called Turner's Medal equal to the Gold Medal 
now given by the Academy, say ^20 for the best Land- 
scape every 2 (3) years, and if the Trustees and Members 
of the Royal Academy do not accept of this offered 
residue I give the same to Georgia Danby or her Heirs 
after causing a Monument to be placed near my remains 
as can be placed." 

This codicil was signed but not attested; it was fol- 


lowed by another, August 2nd, 1848, which revoked the 
bequests to the relations and housekeepers. " And as to 
my finished Pictures except the Two mentioned in my 
Will I give and bequeath the same unto the Trustees of 
the National Gallery provided that a room or rooms are 
added to the present National Gallery to be when 
erected called ' Turner's Gallery.' " 

There was a great deal more as to keeping the pic- 
tures in Queen Anne Street guarded by Hannah until 
the gallery should be ready, and nineteen pounds nine- 
teen shillings is to be given to each executor for a ring; 
unless the terms of this bequest are carried out in five 
years the bequest is declared void. 

In the next codicil, February ist, 1849, the trustees 
of the National Gallery are given ten years instead of 
five to build the room or rooms that are to be called 
Turner's Gallery. Then Turner bequeaths the sum of 
£1,000 to erect a monument in Saint Paul's Cathedral 
where he desires to be buried among his Brothers in 
Art; and Hannah Danby and Caroline Booth are each 
to have an annuity of ;^i5o; then ;^i,ooo is to go to 
the Pension Fund of the Royal Academy "provided 
they give a Medal for Landscape Painting and marked 
with my name upon it as Turner's Medal." ;6^500 to the 
Artists' General Benevolent Fund, ^500 to the Foundling 
Hospital, a like sum to the London Orphan Fund, and 
the residue for the intended hospital mentioned in the 
will. Mrs. Wheeler and her two sisters were to have 
;^ioo each. 

In the will and the four codicils, proved on September 


the 6th, 1852, by the Rev. H. S. Trimmer, George Jones, 
C. Turner, P. Hardwick, H. Harpur, Dr. Munro, Samuel 
Rogers, T. Griffith, and John Ruskin, the effects were 
sworn under ^140,000. 

Unfortunately for the poor artists of England the will 
was disputed by the next of kin on the ground that the 
testator was mad. This plea failed. The trustees and 
executors then filed a bill in Chancery praying the 
Court to construe the will and to enable them to ad- 
minister the estate. The next of kin said it was im- 
possible to place any construction upon the will at all 
and that it was void ; and further that even if the will 
could be carried out according to the intention of the 
testator it was still void, as the bequests came within 
the Statute of Mortmain. 

When once the Court of Chancery had got hold of a 
property worth i^ 140,000 it was in no hurry to part 
from it. Several tons' weight of documents were drawn 
up. There was a cartload of bills of costs. The money 
that Turner had slaved for from morning to night and 
had hoarded for so many years was now squandered in 
the most lavish way; for four years the suit dragged 
on, and the lawyers grew rich on the dead man's 

At last a compromise was effected between all the 
parties to the suit, and on March the 19th, 1856, a 
decree was pronounced with their consent to the fol- 
lowing effect : 

1. The real estate to go to the heir at law. 

2. The pictures etc., to the National Gallery. 


3. ;^i,ooo for the erection of a monument in St. Paul's 

4. .;^20,ooo to the Royal Academy free of legacy 

5. Remainder to be divided amongst next of kin. 
This unfortunate ending might well have made the 

poor old man turn in his grave. For years he had mused 
upon the good that his money would do to the sick and 
helpless among his brother artists, and in the end his 
love of mystery and lack of power to express his wishes 
clearly had wrecked the whole project. 

The trustees of the National Gallery took the three 
hundred and twenty- four pictures, which at first were 
removed to Marlborough House. Afterwards they were 
taken to Kensington, where their numbers seem to have 
increased to three hundred and sixty-two. And they 
were at last hung in the National Gallery, where they 
still remain. 

In 1857 Ruskin offered to select, sift, and arrange the 
drawings and water-colours that Turner had left, di- 
viding them into three classes. In the first are 45 draw- 
ings of the Rivers of France, 57 illustrating Rogers's 
poems, 23 Rivers and Harbours of England, 4 marine 
vignettes, 5 middle-sized drawings, and last, the Val 
d'Aosta, a large water-colour 2 feet by 3; these num- 
bered 135 in all. There were 1,757 studies i" the second 
class, and among these may be found the very finest 
work that Turner has achieved. No one can appreciate 
his greatness who has not seen them. In the third class 
are the black-and-white drawings, some of them drawn 


from nature, and others, compositions for pictures; some 
of these are magnificent. 

Ruskin laboured hard from the autumn to May. Here 
is his description of the work : 

"In seventeen boxes in the lower room of the Na- 
tional Gallery I found upwards of 19,000 pieces of paper, 
drawn upon by Turner in one way or another — many on 
both sides. Some with four, five, or six subjects on each 
side (the pencil point digging spiritedly through from 
the foregrounds of the front into the tender pieces of 
sky on the back). Some in chalk, which the touch of 
the finger would sweep away. The best book of studies 
for his great shipwrecks contained about a quarter of a 
pound of chalk debris, black and white, broken off the 
crayons with which Turner had drawn furiously on both 
sides of the leaves; every leaf with peculiar foresight 
and consideration of difficulties to be met by future 
mounters containing half of one subject on the front of 
it and half of another on the back. Others in ink rotted 
into holes. Others (some splendid-coloured drawings 
among them) long eaten away by damp and mildew, 
and falling into dust at the edges, in various states of 
fragile decay. Others worm-eaten ; some mouse-eaten ; 
many torn half way through; numbers doubled (quad- 
rupled, I should say) into four, being Turner's favourite 
mode of packing for travelling; nearly all rudely flat- 
tened out from the bundles in which Turner had finally 
rolled them up and squeezed them into the drawers in 
Queen Anne Street. Dust of thirty years' accumulation, 
black, dense and sooty, lay in the rents of the crushed 


and crumpled edges of these flattened bundles, looking 
like a jagged black frame, and producing altogether un- 
expected effects in brilliant portions of skies, whence an 
accidental or experimental finger-mark of the first 
bundle unfolder had swept it away." 

" About half, or rather more, of the entire number 
consisted of pencil sketches in flat, oblong pocket-books, 
dropping to pieces at the back, tearing laterally when- 
ever opened, and every drawing rubbing itself into the 
one opposite. These first I paged with my own hand, 
then unbound, and laid every leaf separately on a clean 
sheet of perfectly smooth writing paper, so that it might 
receive no further injury. Then enclosing the contents 
and boards of each book (usually ninety-two leaves, more 
or less, drawn on both sides, with two sketches on the 
boards at the beginning and end) in a separate sealed 
packet I returned it to its tin box. The loose sketches 
needed more trouble. The dust had first to be got off 
them (from the chalk ones it could only be blown off), 
then they had to be variously flattened ; the torn ones 
to be laid down, the loveliest guarded so as to prevent 
all future friction, and four hundred of the most charac- 
teristic framed and glazed, and cabinets constructed for 
them, which would admit of their free use by the 

Anyone who cares to ask permission from the keeper 
may sit in one of the rooms in the basement of the 
National Gallery and have these wonderful drawings 
passed before him by an attendant. As I said some 
pages back, this in itself is a complete education. I 


think Ruskin meant that students should flock to copy 
the works of his idol when he framed and arranged 
them so carefully; but it may be as well to point out 
that no one can hope to approach the greatness of 
Turner by making copies of his work. I cannot call to 
mind a single imitation of this master that is not utterly 
inferior in every possible way, as imitations always 
will be. 

The man who strives to rival Turner must go out and 
study nature face to face as he did. On the mountain 
side, in crowded cities, or afloat on the ever-changing 
ocean. He must be able to watch and note every passing 
phase, with the power of storing up, and afterwards 
sifting and winnowing his observations. To these the 
gifts of imagination, originality and individuality must 
be added. 

Lastly, after years of patient labour, knowledge may 
come to the groping student, and he may so weave 
truth and art together that his work may approach to 
the matchless splendour of that of Turner himself 








The following catalogue is extracted, by his permission, from 
the volume by Mr. C. F. Bell, entitled "A List of the Works 
contributed to Public Exhibitions by J. M. W. Turner, R.A," 

The following abbreviations are used: 

R.A., Exhibition of the Royal Academy of Arts. 

B.I. Exhibition of the British Institution. 

O. M., Exhibition of the Works of Old Masters and Deceased 

Masters of the British school at the Royal Academy. 
A.T.M., Exhibition of Art Treasures, Manchester, 1857. 
J.M., Royal Jubilee Exhibition, Manchester, 1887, 
N.G., National Gallery. 

V.A.M., Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington. 
Notes marked [A] are from Sir Walter Armstrong's " Turner." 


1. View of the Archbishop's palace, Lambeth, (io x i4|.) 

R.A. 1790, No. 644; O.M. 1887, No. 3. 
(Now in the collection of W. G. Rawlinson, Esq.) 

2. King John's palace, Eltham. R.A. 1791, No. 494. Sale 

1891, ;^io los. (Hooper). 


Clarke. R.A. 1791, No. 560. 

4. Malmsbury Abbey. Signed, W. Turner, delt. (21 x 141.) 

R.A. 1792, No. 436. Possession of Messrs. Agnew, 1899. 
(Collection of H. L. Day, Esq.— j^A.]) 

5. The Pantheon — the morning after the fire. (ii|x9|.) 

R.A. 1792, No. 472; O.M. 1887, No. 7. 

6. View on the river A\-on, near St. Vincent's rock, Bristol. 

R.A. 1793, No. 263. Sale 1864, ;^3i lor. (?). 

7. Gate of St. Augustine's monastery, Canterbury. (2o| x 16.) 

R.A. 1793, No 316. Sale 1891, ^£^"19 i9,$-. (Nathan). 

8. The rising squall — hot wells fro.m St. Vincent's rock, 

Bristol. R.-A. 1793, No. 323. 

9. Second fall of the river Monach, Devil's Bridge, 

Cardig.\nshire. R.A. 1794, No. 333. 
ID. Porch of Great Malvern Abbey, Worcestershire. R.A. 
1794, No. 336. Sale July 2nd, 1888 (Lord Beauchamp [?]). 

11. Christchurch Gate, Canterbury. (loix io|- [?].) R.A. 

1794, No. 388; Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, 1861 (?). 

12. Lnside OF Tintern Abbey, Monmouthshire. Signed, Turner. 

(121x91.) R.A. 1794, No. 402; V.A.M. 1871, No. 1683-71. 

13. St. Anselm's ch.a.pel with part of Thomas A Becket's 

crown — C-A.NTERBURY St^Jied and dated, 
Turner, 1793. (2oi:Xi4l.) R.A. 1794, No. 408; O.M. 
1887, No. 19. 



14. St. Hugh's, the Burgundian's porch at Lincoln Cathe- 

dral. R.A. 1795, No. 411; A.T.M. 1857, No. 303. 

15. Marford mill, Wrexham, Denbighshire. Signed, Turner. 

(9| X 7 [?]•) R-A. 179s, No. 581 ; Guildhall, 1899, No. loi [?]. 

16. West entrance of Peterborough cathedral. R.A. 1795, 

No. 585. 

17. Transept of Tintern Abbey, Monmouthshire. (13^x10.) 

R.A. 1795, No. 589; O.M. 1887, No. 26. 

18. Welsh Bridge, at Shrewsbury. R.A. 1795, No. 593. Sale 

1887, £i\ \os. (Watson) [?]. 

19. View near the Devil's bridge, with the river Ryddol, 

Cardiganshire. R.A. 1795, No. 609. 

20. Choir in King's College Chapel, Cambridge. R..A. 1795, 

No. 616. 

21. Cathedral church at Lincoln. (i7|xi3|.) Signed and 

dated, W. Turner, 1795. R.A. 1795, No. 621 ; British 

22. Fishermen AT SEA. R.A. 1796, No. 305. 

23. Close Gate, Salisbury. R.A. 1796, No. 369. 

24. St. Erasmus in Bishop Islip's Chapel, Westminster 

Abbey. R.A. 1796, No. 395. Sale 1877, ;^23i (Vokins). 

25. Woolverhampton, Staffordshire. R.A. 1796, No. 651. 

26. Landilo Bridge and Dinevor Castle. R.A. 1796, No. 656. 

27. Internal of a cottage, a study at Ely. R.A. 1796, 

No. 686; N.G. 
2%. Chale Farm, Isle of Wight. R.A. 1796, No. 699. 

29. Landaff Cathedral, South Wales. R.A. 1796, No. 701. 

30. Remains of Waltham Abbey, Essex. R.A. 1796, No. 702. 

Sale 1864, ^141 15^. (bt. in). 

31. Transept and Choir of Ely Minster. (26x20.) R.A. 

1796, No. 711; Birmingham 1899, No. 29. 

32. West front of Bath .Abbey. Signed, " W. Turner." (9ix 

II.) R.A. 1796, No. 715. Sale 1894, ^£,"57 \%,s. (Mash). 

(Collection of James Graham, Esq. — [A.]) 
2fT^. Transept OF Ewenny Priory, Glamorganshire. (151x22.) 
R.A. 1797, No. 427; Corporation Art Gallery, Cardiff. 

There are really two drawings of this subject, one, the 
less finished of the two, was in the Percy collection, and is 
now in that of the Rev. E. C. Dewick. The other was Mr. 
Dillon's, Sir Joseph Heron's, and is now at Cardiff. — [A.] 


34. Choir of Salisbury Cathedral. Signed and dated, Turner 

1797. (25^x191.) R.A. 1797, No. 450; Guildhall, 1899, No. 

35. Ely Cathedral, South Transept. 25x191. R.A. 1797, No. 

464; O.M., 1887, No. 36. 

36. North Porch of Salisbury Cathedral. R.A. 1797, No. 517. 
■yi. Refectory of Kirkstall Abbey, Yorkshire. Signed, J. M. W. 

Turner. (171x251.) R.A, 1798, No. 346; Sir John Soane's 

38. Norham Castle on the Tweed, Summer's morn. Signed, 

Turner. (19IX27I.) R.A. 1798, No. 353; Guildhall, 1899, 
No. 118. 

There are two drawings of this subject, one — still belong- 
ing to Mrs. Thwaites— was last at O.M. 1887, No. 38; 
the other, belonging to Mr. Walters, was at Guildhall. — 

39. Holy Island cathedral, Northumberland. R.A. 1798, 

No. 404. 

40. Ambleside mill, Westmoreland. R.A. 1798, No. 408. 

41. The dormitory and transept of Fountains Abbey; Even- 

ing. (18x24.) R.A. 1798, No. 435; Guildhall, 1899, No. 

42. A study in September of the fern-house, Mr. Lock's Park, 

Mickleham, Surry. R.A. 1798, No. 640. 

43. Sunny Morning — the cattle by S. Gilpin, R.A. R.A., 

1799, No. 325. 

44. Abergavenny bridge, Monmouthshire, cle.\ring up after 

A SHOWERY DAY. (16x25.) R.A. 1799, No. 326; V.A.M. 


45. Inside of the chapter house of Salisbury cathedral. 

(25x20.) R.A. 1799, No. 327; Guildhall, 1899, No. 105. 

46. West Front OF Salisbury cathedral. R.A. 1799, No. 335. 

(Now belonging to Mrs. Cash. — [A.]) 

47. Caernarvon Castle. Signed, Turner. {22lX2,2^Yi!].) R.A. 

1799, No. 340. O.M. 1887, No. 39 [?]. 

48. Morning, from Dr. Langhorne's " Visions of Fancy." 

R.A. 1799, No. 356. 

49. Warkworth Castle, Northumberland — thunder storm 

approaching at sun-set. (19IX29.) R.A. 1799, No. 434; 
V.A.M. i860. No. 547. 


50. View of the Gothic Abbey (afternoon) now building at 


4i|.) R.A. 1800, No. 328; O.M. 1887, No. 42. 

51. South-west view of a Gothic Abbey (Morning) now build- 

ing AT Fonthill, the SEAT OF W. Beckford, Esq. R.A. 
1800, No. 341. 

52. Caernarvon castle, North Wales. R.A. 1800, No. 351. 

53. South view of the Gothic Abbey (Evening) now building 

AT Fonthill, the seat of W. Beckford, Esq. R.A. 1800, 
No. 566. 

54. East view of the Gothic Abbey (Noon) now building at 

Fonthill, the seat of W. Beckford, Esq. R.A. 1800, 
No. 663. 

55. North East view of the Gothic Abbey (sun-set) now build- 

ing at Fonthill, the seat of W. Beckford, Esq. R.A. 

1800, No. 680. 

56. London, Autumnal morning. (231x39.) R.A., 1801, No. 

329; Guildhall, 1899, No. 97. 

57. Pembroke castle, South Wales : thunder storm approach- 

ing. 261x41. R.A. 1801, No. 343: Ralph Brocklebank,Esq. 

58. St. Doxat's castle, South Wales. Su.mmer Evening. R.A. 

1801, No. 358; A.T.iM. 1857, No. 306. 

59. Chapter-house, Salisbury. R.A. 1801, No. 415; V.A.M. 

No. 503-83. 

60. The fall of the Clyde, Lanarkshire. Noon — vide Aken- 

side's Hymn to the Naiads. (28IX41.) R.A. 1802, No. 
366; O.M. 1889, No. 12; Guildhall, 1899, No. 125. 


LAND, Noon. (21x30^.) R.A. 1802, No. 377. O.M. 1887, 
No. 44. 

62. Edinburgh New Town, castle, etc., fro.m the Water of 

Leith. ^.(26x39.) 5.(251x381.) 
A. — R.A. 1802, No. 424 (?). Sale, 1891, ;69i3 lo^- 
(Now belongs to Sir J. Joicey, Bart. — [A.]) 
B.—R.A. 1802, No. 424(?);' O.M. 1889, No. 14. Sale, 

1899, ;:^i,o5o(Agnew). 

63. Ben Lomond Mountains, Scotland: the Tr.weller. — Vide 

Ossian's "War of Caros." R.A. 1802, No. 862. 


Cormaver, in THE VALLEY OF d'Aoust. SigJied, J. M. W. 


Turner. i26^x^g{.) R.A. 1803, No. 384; Sir John Soane's 

65. Glacier and source of the Arveron, going up to the Mer 

DE Glace. (27x40.) R.A. 1803, No. 396; Leeds Exhibi- 
tion, 1839. 

66. Edinburgh FROM Caulton Hall. (25x381.) R.A. 1804, No. 

373; N.G. 

67. Pembroke castle ; Clearing up of a thunderstorm. R.A. 

1806. No. 394; Guildhall, 1899, No. 114. 

68. Windsor Park; with horses by the late S.wvtrey Gilpin, 

EsQRE., R.A. R.A. 1811, No. 295. 

69. November; Flounder-fishing. (24^x184.) R.A, 1811, No. 

312; Leeds Exhibition, 1839. 

70. Chryses. (26x391.) R.A. 1811, No. 2,^2; Guildhall, 1899, 

No. 138; Messrs. Agnew's Gallery, 1902. 

71. May, Chickens. Signed, J. M. W. Turner, R.A. (24ix i8|.) 

R.A. 1811, No. 351; Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 50. 
■]2. Scarborough, Town and Castle: Morning, Boys collect- 
ing crabs. A. 27x40. B. Signed and dated, J. ISL W. 
Turner, R.A. 1809. (11 x 15I.) 

^.— R.A. 1811, No. 392 [?]; Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 

5.— R.A. 1811. No. 392 (?) Wallace collection. 
"jl. The Battle of Fort Rock, Val d'Aouste Pied.mont. 1796. 
R.A. 1815, No. 192; N.G. 

74. The Eruption of the Souffrier Mountains in the island 

OF St. Vincent at midnight on the 30TH of April, 181 2, 
from a sketch taken at the time by Hugh P. Keane, Esq. 
R.A. 1815, No. 258; Agnew's in 1903. 

75. The Passage of Mount St. Gothard, taken from the 

centre of the Teufels Broch (Devil's Bridge). Signed 
J. M. W. Turner, R.A. 1804. R.A. 1815, No. 281; Fawkes 

An oil picture of this subject (31 x 24) was lent to O.M. 
1885, No. 18. 

76. The great fall of the Riechenbach ; in the Valley of 

Hasle, Switzerland. Signed and dated, J. M. W. Turner, 
R.A. 1804. (40x27.) R.A. 1815, No. 292; O.M. 1886, No. 


(Collection of Mr. D. Currie. — [A.]) 


77. Lake of Lucerne, from the landing place at Flaelen, 

LAND. Signed, J. M. W. T. (26^^x39'-.) R.A. 1815, No. 
316. Sale, 1890, ;^2,3io. 

78. Landscape : Composition of TivoLi. Sig-ned a7id dated, 1817. 

(26x40.) R.A. 1818, No. 474. Sale, 1899, ^i^j^s {'^g"ew). 
(Collection of Sir J. Joicey, Bart. — [A.]) 

79. Rise of the River Stour AT Stourhead. (261x401.) K.k. 

1825, No. 465; Guildhall, 1899, No. 124. 

80. Messieurs les Voyageurs, on their return from Italy 

(par la diligence), in a snowdrift upon mount Tarrar. 
22ND of January, 1829. {2i\y.2(^~.) R.A. 1829, ^'o- S^o- 
(In the possession of Messrs. Agnew, 1899.) 
(Collection of S. G. Killand, Esq. — [A.]) 

81. Funeral of Sir Thomas Lawrence, a sketch from memory. 

Inscribed, "Funeral of Sir Tho^ Lawrence P. R.A. Jan. 
21, 1830. Sketch from memory J. M. W. T." (22x30.) 
R.A. 1830, No. 493; N.G. 


82. Moonlight, a study at Millbank. Panel ii|xi5i. R.A. 

1797, No. 136; N.G., No. 459. 

83. Fishermen coming a shore at sun set, previous to a gale. 

R.A. 1797, No. 279. 

84. Winesdale, Yorkshire, an autumnal morning. R.A. 1798, 

No. 118. 

85. Morning amongst the Coniston Fells, Cumberland. (Can- 

vas 47x35.) R.A. 1798, No. 196; N.G. No. 461. 

86. Dunstanborough Castle, N.E. coast of Northumberland. 

Sun-rise after a squally night. (Canvas 36 x 48.) R.A. 

1798, No. 322; City Art Gallery, Melbourne, presented by 
the Duke of Westminster. 

87. Fishermen becalmed previous to a storm, twilight. R.A. 

1799, No. 55. 

88. Harlech Castle, from Twgwyn ferry, summer's evening 

twilight. R.A. 1799, No. 192. 

89. Battle of the Nile at 10 o'clock, when the l'Orient blew 



BATTERY AND CASTLE OF Aboukir. R.x\. 1799, No. 275; ex- 
hibited by the XIX Century Art Society, July, 1886. 


LAND, A SHOWER. (Canvas 35X47|-) R-A. 1799, No. 527; 
N.G. No, 460. 


TO A SULTRY D.A,Y. Canvas 36x48. R.A. 1799, No. 305. 

There appear to be at least five pictures of Kilgarran by 
Turner in existence. The largest are two exact duplicates, 
answering to the description and measurements given 
above ; and, in all probability, one of these was the picture 
exhibited in the Academy. 

Of these (A) was lentO.xM. 1881, No. 173; and Guild- 
hall, 1899, No. I. This picture is distinguished by a deep 
golden tone. 

(B) was lent to the Guildhall, 1892, No. 93, and 1899, 
No. 3. 

The third seems ultimately to have passed into the pos- 
session of INIr. Martin H. Colnaghi, by whom it was lent 
toO.M. 1891, No. 18. 

The fourth picture of this subject was possibly the same 
example that in an anonymous sale in May, 1891, was sold 
for ^367 los. (Barter). 

(Now belongs to Mr. W. B. Beaumont. — [A.]) 

The fifth picture with this title, a panel g^x 13I, was lent 
to Guildhall, 1899, by S. N. Castle, Esq., No. 5. 

92. DoLBADERN Castle, North Wales. (Canvas 47x351.) R..\. 

1800, No. 200. Collection: The Royal Academy; the 
Artist's Diploma work. 

93. The Fifth plague of Egypt. Exodus ix. 23. ' ' And the 

Lord sent thunder and h.-\.il, and the fire ran along 
THE ground." (Canvas 47x71.) R.A. 1800, No. 206; 
Guildhall, 1899, No. 9. 

94. Dutch boats in a gale; fishermen endeavouring to put 

their fish on board. (Canvas 60x84.) R.A. 1801, No. 
157; Bridgewater Gallery. 

95. The Army of the Medes destroyed in the desart by a 

WHIRLWIND, foretold BY JeREMIAH. Chap. XV, ver. 32 

and 33. R.A. 1801, No. 281. 


96. Fishermen upon a lee-shore, in squally weather. (Canvas 

35A-X48.) R.A. 1802, No. no; Guildhall, 1899, No. 7. 

97. The tenth plague of Egypt. Exodus xii, 29, 30. (Canvas 

57?; X 931--) R-A. 1802, No. 153; N.G. No. 470. 

98. Ships bearing up for anchorage. Signed^ J. M. W. Turner, 

P. (Canvas 47x71 [?].) R.A. 1802, No. 227; O.M. 1892, 
No. 131. 

99. Jason. (Canvas 352X471.) R.A. 1802, No. 519; N.G. No. 

100. Bonneville, Savoy, with Mont Blanc. (Canvas 23^x481. ) 

R.A. 1803, No. 24; O.M. 1895, No. 134. 
loi. The festival upon the opening of the vintage of Macon. 
(Canvas 57x93.) O.M. 1893, No. 137. 

102. Calais Pier, with French poissards preparing for sea: 

an English packet ARRIVING. (Canvas 67 X94I.) R.A. 
1803, No. 146; N.G. No. 472. 

103. Holy Family. (Canvas 41 x 56.) R.A. 1803, No. 156; N.G. 

No. 473. 

104. Chateaux de St. Michael, Bonneville, Savoy. (Can- 

vas 35^x47.) R.A. 1803, No. 237; O.M. 1889, No. 

A replica in water-colour in the collection at Farnley 
Hall, O.M. 1886, 38. 

105. Boats carrying out anchors and cables to Dutch men 

of WAR IN 1665. (Canvas 40x51.) R.A. 1804, No 183; 
Sir George Donaldson. O.M. 1903, No. 12. 

106. Narcissus and Echo. (Canvas 34x46.) R.A. 1804, No. 

207; O.M. 1888, No. II. 

107. Fall of the Rhine at Sch.-vffhausen. (Canvas 57x92.) 

R.A. 1806, No. 182; O.M. 1879, No. 169. 

108. The goddess of Discord choosing the apple of conten- 

tion IN the garden of the Hesperides. (Canvas 
59^x84.) B.I. 1806, S.R. No. 55; N.G. No. 477. 



HIS PONEY. (Panel, 22^x30^.) R.A. 1807, No. 135; N.G. 
No. 478. 
no. Sun RISING through vapour; fishermen cleaning and 
SELLING fish. (Canvas 52x70.) R.A. 1807, No. 162; 
N.G. No. 479. 


A replica formerly in the Farnley Hall Gallerj- was sold 
in 1890 for ;!^i,o50. 

This is one of the two pictures (the other is No. 134 
post) bequeathed to the nation by Turner, on condition 
that they should hang by the side of two by Claude. 

111. The unpaid bill, or the Doctor reproving his son's 

PRODIGALITY. (Panel, 24x31^.) R.A. 1808, No. 116; 
O.M. 1882, No. 30. 

112. The battle of Trafalgar, as seen from the mizen star- 

board SHROUDS of the VICTORY. (Canvas 68 x 94). B.I. 
1808, S.R. No. 359; N.G. No. 480. 

Turner painted two pictures of the battle of Trafalgar, 
but the present, usually known as the Death of Nelson, 
was alone exhibited during the painter's life-time. 

The second was painted for King Georg^e IV, and is 
now at Greenwich Hospital. It represents a general view 
of the battle, (Thornbury, pp. 288, 334, 428.) It is also 
engraved in the Turner Gallery. In the N.G. No. 556, is 
a large oil sketch for this second picture. 

113. Spithead. Boat's CREW recovering an anchor. (Canvas 

67x92.) R.A. 1809, No. 22; N.G. No. 481. 


DAY. (Canvas 36x47^.) R.A. 1809; O.M. 1881, No. 

115. Tabley, Cheshire, the seat of Sir J. F. Leicester, Bart. ; 

CALM MORNING. (Canvas 36x48^-.) R.A. 1809, No. 146; 
Petworth House. 
1x6. The garreteer's petition. (Panel, 21x30.) R.A. 1809, 
No. 175; N.G. No. 482. 


OF Lonsdale, North-west \'iew from L^lleswater; 
Evening. (Canvas 354x48.) R.A. 1810, No. 85; O.M. 
1891, No. 131. 


OF Lonsdale (the north front), with the river Low- 
ther: Mid-day. (Canvas 35^x48.) R.A. i8io, No. 115; 
O.M. 1876, No. 33, 1891, No. 135. 
iig. Petworth, Sussex, the seat of the Earl of Egremont: 
Dewy morning. (Canvas 36 X47I.) R.A. 1810, No. 158; 
O.M. 1892, No. 133. 


120. Mercury and Herse. (Canvas 75x63.) R.A. 181 1, No. 

70; Guildhall, 1899, No. 20. 

121. Apollo and Python. (Canvas 57^x93^;.) R.A. 181 1, 

No. 81 ; N.G. No. 488. 


GATE, Esq. (Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 181 1, No. 177; 
Guildhall, 1899, No. 17. 

123. Whalley Bridge and Abbey, Lancashire. Dyers wash- 

ing AND DRYING CLOTH. (Canvas 24X34I.) R.A. 1811, 
No. 244. Lord Wantage. 

124. A VIEW OF THE Castle of St, Michael, near Bonneville, 

Savoy. (Canvas 38^x461.) R.A. 1812, No. 149. John 
G. Johnson, Esq. of Philadelphia Pennsylvania [?]. 

125. View of the High Street, Oxford. Signed J. M. W. 

Turner, R.A. (Canvas 261x381.) R.A. 1812, No. 161; 
Grosvenor Gallery, 1889, No. 34. 

126. View of Oxford fron the Abingdon road. (Canvas 

26x361.) R.A. 1812, No. 169. Sale 1899, ;i£r4. 200 (Tooth). 

127. Snow storm: Hannibal and his army crossing the Alps. 

(Canvas 57x93.) R.A. 1812, No. 258; N.G. 490. 

128. Frosty morning. (Canvas 45x69.) R.A. 1813, No. 15; 

N.G. No. 492. 

129. The deluge. (Canvas 57x93.) R.A. 1813, No. 213; N.G. 

No. 493. 

130. Dido and Aeneas. (Canvas 58x95.) R.A. 1814, No. 177; 

N.G. No. 494. 

131. Apullia in search of Apullus, vide Ovid. (Canvas 

57x93.) B.L 1814; S.R. No. 168; N.G. No. 495. 

132. Bligh Sand, near Sheerness; Fishing boats, trawling. 

(Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 1815, No. 6; N.G. No. 496. 

133. Crossing the Brook. R.A. 1815, No. 94; N.G. No. 497. 

What is said to be an original finished sketch for this 
picture is in the collection of Mr. C. B. Walker, of Min- 
neapolis, into which it passed from that of the Earl of 

134. Dido building Carthage; or the rise of the Cartha- 

ginian Empire. (Canvas 601x891.) R.A. 1815, No. 158; 
N.G. No. 498. 

135. The Temple of Jupiter Panellenius restored. (Canvas 

57x93.) R.A. 1816, No. 55. Sale 1876, ^2,ioo(Goupil). 


136. View of the Temple of Jupiter Paxellenius ix the 


the romaika ; the acropolis of athens in the distance. 
Painted from a sketch taken by H. Gally Knight, 
Esq. in 1810. Sig-ned. (Canvas 27^x35.) R.A. 1816, 
No. 71 ; Whitworth Institute, Manchester, No. 370. 

137. The Decline of the Carthaginian Empire. Rome, 

being determined on the overthrow of her hated 


CHILDREN. (Canvas 67ix 95.) R.A. 1817, No. 195; N.G. 
No. 499. 

138. View of the Temple of Jupiter Panellenius in the 

Island of ^^^gina with the Greek National Dance of 


from a sketch taken by H. Gally Knight, Esq. in 
1810. (Canvas 46x70.) B.I. 1817, No. 266. B.I. 1856, 
No. 53. 

139. Raby Castle, the seat of the Earl of Darlington. 

R.A. 1818, No. 129. In the possession of Messrs. Wallis, 
of the French Gallery, London, 1899. 
(Collection of H. Walters, Esq., of Baltimore. — [A.]) 

140. DoRT OR Dordrecht, the Dort packet-bo.\t from 

Rotterdam becalmed. Signed and dated, J. M. W. 
Turner, R.A. 1818, Dort. (Canvas 62 x 91I.) R.A. 1818, 
No. 166. Walter Fawkes, Esq., of Farnley Hall, and his 

141. The Field of Waterloo. (Canvas 59x93.) R.A. 1818, 

No. 263; N.G. No. 500. 

142. Entrance of the Meuse: Orange-merchant on the bar, 

going to pieces; Brill Church bearing S.E. by S., 
Masensluys E. by S. (Canvas 67x941.) R.A. 1819, 
No. 136; N.G. No. 501. 

143. England: Richmond Hill, on the Prince Regent's Birth- 

day. (Canvas 70x132.) R.A. 1819, No. 206; N.G. 
No. 502. 

144. Rome from the Vatican. Raff.aelle accompanied by 

La Fornarina, preparing his pictures for the decora- 


TiON OF THE LoGGiA. (Canvas 69IX131.) R.A. 1820, 
No 206; N.G. No. 503. 

145. "What vou will." R.A. 1822, No. 114. Sale 1861, 

£^hl 5^- (Agnew). 

146. Bay of BAiiE, with Apollo and the Sybil. (Canvas 

S7iX93T-) R-A. 1823, No. 77; N.G. No. 505. 

147. Harbour of Dieppe (chaxgement de domicile). (Canvas 

59x89.) R.A. 1825, No. 152. John Naylor, of Leighton 
Hall, Esq. 

148. Cologne, the arrival of a packet-boat. Evening. 

(Canvas 59x89.) R.A. 1826, No. 72; A.T.M. 1857, 
No. 224. 

This is the picture whose glowing tone so injured the 
effect of two portraits by Lawrence, near to which it hung 
in the Academy, that Turner darkened it upon varnishing 
day with a coat of lamp-black in water colour. (Thorn- 
bury, pp. 274, 347.) It must not be confounded with the 
water-colour drawing, formerly in the Windus collection, 
which is engraved in the Turner Gallery. 

149. Forum Romaxum, for Mr. Soane's Museum. (Canvas 

50x89, arched top.) R.A. 1826, No. 132. N.G. No. 504. 

150. The Seat of William Moffatt, Esq., at Mortlake. 

Early (summer's) Mormng. (Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 
1826, No. 324; Guildhall, 1899, No. 22. 

151. "Now for the painter" (rope). Passengers going on 

board. (Canvas 59x89.) R.A. 1827, No. 74; A.T.M. 
1857, No. 295. 

152. Port Ruysdael. (Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 1827, No. 147; 

G. A. Drummond, Esq., of Montreal. 

153. Rembrandt's daughter. (Canvas 461^x44^.) R.A. 1827, 

No. 166; O.M. 1877, No. 261. 

154. Mortlake Terrace, the seat of Willia.m Moff.\t, Esq., 

summer's evening. R.A., 1827, No. 300; Guildhall, 
1899, No. 23. 

It is said that the dog in the foreground of this picture 
was cut out of black paper, and stuck on to the canvas 
by Sir Edwin Landscer in Turner's absence. Magazine 
of Art, 1899, p. 403. 

155. Scene in Derbyshire. R.A. 1827, No. 319. 

156. Dido directing the equip.ment of the fleet, or the 



R.A. 1828, No. 70; N.G. No. 506. 

157. East Cowes Castle, the seat of J. Nash, Esq., the 

Regatta beating to windward. R.A. 1828, No. 113; 
sale 1835, ;£^i99 10s. (Tiffin.) 

158. East Cowes Castle, the seat of J. Nash, Esq. ; the 


R.A. 1828, No. 152; V.A.M. 1856, No. 210. 

159. Boccaccio relating the tale of the Birdcage. (Canvas 

48x36.) R.A. 1828, No 262; N.G. No. 507. 

160. The banks of the Loire. R.A. 1829, No. 19; Kunsthalle, 

Hamburg, Schwabe collection. No. 114. 

161. Ulysses deriding Polyphemus — Homer's Odyssey. 

(Canvas 51 X79.) R.A. 1829, No. 42; N.G. No. 508. 

162. The Loretto necklace. (Canvas 52x69.) R.A. 1829, 

No. 337; N.G. No. 509. 

163. Linlithgow Palace. (Canvas 35 x 47.) Roj-al Manchester 

Institution, 1829, No. 271; O.M. 1888, No. 37. 

164. Pilate washing his hands. (St. Matt, xxvii, 24.) (Canvas 

35x47.) R.A. 1830, No. 7; N.G. No. 510. 

165. View of Orvieto ; painted in Rome. (Canvas 36 x 48.) R.A. 

1830, No. 30; N.G. No. 511. 

166. Palestrina— composition. (Canvas 56x981^.) R.A. 1830, 

No. 181. (Mrs. Williams.) 

167. Jessica. (Canvas 48x36.) R.A. 1830, No. 226. (Petworth 


168. Calais sands, low water: Poissards collecting bait. 

(Canvas 281x42.) R.A. 1830, No. 304; sale 1872, ;^i, 785 
(Agnew); Bury Art Gallery, Wrigley gift, from the collec- 
tion of Lord Bective. — [A.] 

169. Fish-Market on the sands; the sun rising through 

VAPOUR. (Canvas 34x44.) R.A. 1830, No. 432; Guildhall, 
1892, No. 118, and 1899, No. 31. 

170. Life-Boat and Manby apparatus going opt to a stranded 


35x47.) R.A. 1831, No. 73; V.A.M. 1856, No. 211. 

171. Caligula's palace and bridge. (Canvas 56x98.) R.A. 

1831, No. 162; N.G. 512. 

172. Vision of Medea. (Canvas 68x98.) R.A. i8:?i. No. 178; 

N.G. No. 513. 


173. Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, and Dorothy Percy's visit 

TO THEIR Father Lord Percy when under attainder 
UPON the supposition of his being concerned in the gun- 
powder plot. (Panel isiX27|.) R.A. 1831, No. 263; 
N.G. No. 5x5. 

174. Admiral van Tromp's barge at the entrance of the 

Texel, 1645. (Canvas 35^x48.) R.A. 1831, No. 288; Sir 
John Soane's Museum. 

175. Watteau, study by Fresnoy's rules. (Panel i5|:X27^.) 

R.A. 1831, No. 298; N.G. No. 514. 

176. "In this arduous service (of reconnoissance) on the 

French coast, 1805, one of our cruisers took the 
ground, and had to sustain the attack of the flying 
artillery along shore, the batteries, and the fort of 


1831, No. 406; Lenox Library, New York City, No. 86. 

177. Childe Harold's pilgrimage — Italy. (Canvas 56x98.) 

R.A. 1832, No. 70; N.G. No. 516. 

178. The Prince of Orange, William III, embarked from 

Holland and landed at Torbay, November 4TH, 1688, 
AFTER A stormy PASSAGE. (Canvas 35^ X 47J-. ) R.A. 1832, 
No. 153; N.G. 1847, No. 369. 

179. Van Tromp's shallop at the entrance of the Scheldt. 

(Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 1832, No. 206; O. M. 1894, No. 103. 

180. Helvoetsluys ; — the City of Utrecht, 64, going to sea. 

(Canvas 36x50.) R.A. 1832, No. 284; James Ross, Esq., 
of Montreal. 

181. " Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the mouth of the 

burning FIERY furnace, AND SAID, ' SlIADRACH, MeSHACH, 

Shadracii, Meshacii, and Abednego came forth of the 
MIDST OF THE FIRE." — Daniel^ chap, iii, ver. 26. (Panel 351 
X27i.) R.A. 1832, No. 355; N.G. No. 517. 

182. Staffa, Fingal's Cave. Signed, J. M. W. Turner, R.A. 

(Canvas 36x49.) R.A. 1832, No. 453. Lenox Library, 
New York City, 1845, No. 90. 

183. Rotterdam ferry-boat. R.A. 1833, No. 8. 

184. Bridge of Sighs, Duc.^l Palace and Custom house. 


Venice : Canaletti PAINTING. (Panel 20x32.) R. A. 1833, 
No. log; N.G. 1847, No. 370. 

185. Van Goyen looking out for a subject. R.A. 1833, No. 

125. Sale, 1887, ^6,825 (Agnew). 

186. Van Tromp returning after the battle off the Dogger 

Bank. (Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 1833, No. 146; N.G. No. 537. 

187. Ducal Palace, Venice. R.A. 1833, No. 169. 

1S8. Mouth of the Seine. Quille-Bceuf. (Canvas 354^ X47i.) 
R.A. 1833, No. 462; Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. 

Another picture (27 x 34) of this subject, apparent!}- in 
water colours {Athencetcm, 27th September, 1884) was sold 
with the collection of Mr. J. BIbby, of Liverpool, in 1900 
for ^126 (Ichenhauser), (and is now in the Museum of 
Fine Arts, Boston. — [A.]) 

189. The FOUNTAIN of Indolence. (Canvas 41 x 64.) R.A. 1834, 

No. 52 ; George Vanderbilt, Esq. 

190. The GOLDEN BOUGH. MS>. Fallacies of Hope. (Canvas 4iix 

64f R.A. 1834, No. 75; N.G. 1847, No. 371. 

191. Venice. (Canvas 35^x48.) R.A. 1834, No. 175. John 

Naylor, of Leighton Hall, Esq. 

192. Wreckers, — coast of Northumberland, with a steam- 

boat assisting a ship off shore. (Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 
1834, No. 199; A. M. Byers, Esq., of Pittsburg, Penn- 

193. St. Michael's Mount, Cornwall. (Canvas 23x30.) R.A. 

1834, No. 317; V.A.M. 1856, No. 209. 

194. Keelmen heaving in coals by night. Signed, J. M. W. T. 

(Canvas 35^x48.) R.A. 1835, No. 24; O.M. 1887, No. 14. 

195. The bright stone of honour (Ehrenbreitstein) and tomb 

of Marceau from Byron's " Childe Harold." (Canvas 
361.X48X.) R.A. 1835, No. 74; Guildhall, 1899, No. 33. 

196. Venice, from the porch of Madonna della Salute. Sig-ned 

(on a floating plank in the left corner), J. M. W. T. (Can- 
vas 36x48.) R.A. 1835, No. 155; Metropolitan Museum, 
New York, 1900. 

197. Line-Fishing, off Hastings. (Canvas 23x30.) R.A. 1835, 

No. 234; V.A.M. 1856, No. 207. 

198. The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 

October i6th, 1834. (Canvas 361x481 [?].) R.A. 1835, 
No. 294. Sale, 1888, ^1,575 (Ponsford) [?]. 


199. The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 

i6th October, 1834. (Canvas 35x47 [?].) B.I. 1835, No. 
58; O.M. 1885, No. i97[?]. 

200. Juliet and her nurse. (Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 1836. 

No. 73. Colonel O. H. Paine, of New York. 

201. Rome from Mount Aventine. (Canvas 351x48.) R.A. 

1836, No. 144; O.M. 1896, No. 12. 

202. Mercury and Argus. (Canvas 59x43.) R.A. 1836, No. 

182 ; Paris Exhibition, 1900. 

203. The Grand Canal, Venice. (Canvas 59x64.) R.A. 1837, 

No. 31 ; Guildhall, 1899, No. 34. 

204. Story of Apollo and Daphne, Ovid's Metamorphoses. 

(Canvas 421 X77|.) R.A. 1837, No. 130; N.G. No. 520. 

205. The parting of Hero and Leander, from the Greek of 

Musaeus. (Canvas 57^x93.) R.A. 1837, No. 274; 
N.G. No. 521, 

206. Snow-storm, a\'alanche and inundation — a scene in the 

upper part of Val d'Aout, Piedmont. (Canvas 36 [ x 471^.) 
R.A. 1837, No. 480. Sale 1895, ;6^4.200 (Agnevv). Sir 
Donald Currie, Barl.— [A.] 

207. Regulus. (Canvas 36x48.) B.I. 1837, No. 120; N.G. 

No. 519. 

208. Phryne going to the public b.\th as Venus — Demos- 

thenes taunted by ^schines. (Canvas 70x65.) R.A. 
1838, No. 31. N.G. No. 522. 

209. Modern Italy — the Pifferari. (Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 

1838, No. 57; Corporation Galleries, Glasgow, 1896. 

210. Ancient Italy — Ovid banished from Rome. (Canvas 

36x48.) R.A. 1838, No. 192. Sale 1878, ;^5,46o (Agnew), 
afterwards belonged to Mr. Kirkman Hodgson and then 
to Messrs. Sedelme3-er. 
2X1. Fishing-boats, with Hucksters bargaining for fish. 
(Canvas 79x100.) B.I. 1838, No. 134. 

212. The fighting "Temeraire" tugged to her last berth 

TO BE BROKEN UP, 1 838. (Canvas 35yX47|.) R.A. 1839, 
No. 43; N.G. No. 524. 

213. Ancient Rome, Agrippina landing with the ashes of 

Germanicus. The Triumphal Bridge and Palace of 
the C^sars restored. (Canva'i 35x471.) R.A. 1839, 
No. 66. N.G. No. 523. 


214. Modern Rome — Campo Vaccino. (Canvas 35^x48.) R.A. 

1839, No. 70; O.M. 1896, No. 8. 

215. Pluto CARRYING OFF Proserpine, — Ovid's Metam. (Canvas 

35x47.) R.A. 1839, No. 360; Guildhall, 1892, No. 112, 
and 1899, No. 35. 

216. Cicero at his Villa. (Canvas 35i;X47i.) R.A. 1839, 

No. 463. Sale 1882, ^1,890 (bought in). 

217. The Fountain of Fallacy. (Canvas 56x80, including- 

frame.) B.I. 1839, No 58. 

Collection of Mr. Blake, of Portland Place (see Ruskin's 
Diary, Feb., 1844). 

218. B.ACCHUS .A.ND Ariadne. (Canvas, circular, 3o|^.) R.A. 

1840, No. 27; N.G. No. 525. 

219. Venice, the Bridge of Sighs. (Canvas 24x36.) R.A. 

1840, No. 55; N.G. No. 527. 

220. Venice from the Canale della Giudecca, chiesa de S. 

Maria della Salute, etc. (Canvas 23x35.) R.A. 1840, 
No. 71; V.A.M. 1856, No. 208. 

221. Slavers throwing overboard the dead and dying — 

Typhon co.ming on. (Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 1840, No. 
203; Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Massachusetts. 

222. The new moon, or "I've lost my boat, you shan't have 

your hoop." (Panel 25x31.) R.A. 1840, No. 234; 
N.G. No. 526. 
222,. Rockets and blue lights (close at hand) to warn steam- 
boats of shoal-water. (Canvas 35^x47.) R.A. 1840, 
No. 419. Mr. Yerkes. 

224. Neapolitan fisher-girls surprised bathing by .moon- 

light. (Panel 25x31.) R.A. 1840, No. 461. Sale 1875, 
^'525 (Ellis), George Coats, Esq.; exiiibited at Glasgow, 
1901.— [A.] 

225. Ducal Palace, Dog.ano, with of San Georgio, 

Venice. R.A. 1841, No. 53. Sale 1853, ;6"i.i55 (Egg). 

226. Giudecca, la Donna della S.alute and San Georgio. 

(Canvas 24x36.) R.A. 1841, No. 66; Sir Donald Currie, 
Guildhall, 1899, No. 32. 

227. Roseneu, seat of H.R.H. Prince Albert of Coburg, 

near Coburg, Germany. (Canvas 38x49.) R.A. 1841, 
No. 176; Guildhall, 1899, No. 26. 
22%. Depositing of John Bellini's three pictures in l.a. Chiesa 


Redektore, Venice. (Canvas 28x44.) R.A. 1841, No. 
277; Paris Exhibition, igoo. 

229. Dawn of Christi.vnity (Flight into Egypt). Circular. 

R.A. 1841, No. 532. Sale 1872, ;£r966 (Rawlings); after- 
wards belonged to Mr. Kirkman Hodgson and now to 
Sir Donald Currie. — [A.] 

230. Glaucus and Scylla — Ovid's Metamorphoses. R.A. 1841, 

No. 542. Sale 1883, £•)()% iis. 

231. The Dogano, San Giorgio, Citella, from the steps of 

the Europa. (Canvas 21^x341.) R.A. 1842, No. 52; 
N.G. 1847, No. 372. 

232. Campo Santo, Venice. (Canvas 24x36.) R.A. 1842, No. 

73; Guildhall, 1899, No. 36. 

233. Snow-storm— steam-boat off a harbour's mouth making 

signals in shallow water, and going by the lead. 
The author was in this storm on the night the Ariel 
left Harwich. (Canvas 35^x47^.) R.A. 1842, No. 182. 
N.G. No. 530. 

234. Peace — burial at sea. (Canvas, octagonal, diameter 32^.) 

R.A. 1842, No. 338; N.G. No. 528. 

This picture is sometimes known as the Burial of Sir 
David Wilkie; it is well known to have been painted to 
commemorate that event. 

235. War. The exile and the rock-limpet. (Canvas, circular, 

3oi.) R.A. 1842, No. 353; N.G. No. 529. 

236. The opening of the Walhalla, 1842. " Uhonneur au Rot 

de Baviere." (Canvas 421x77^^.) R.A. 1843, No. 14; 
N.G. No. 533. 

237. The Sun of Venice going to sea. (Canvas 24x36.) R.A. 

1843, No. 129; N.G. No. 535. 

238. Dogana and Madonna della Salute, Venice. Signed, 

J. M. W. T. (Canvas 24x36.) R.A. 1843, No. 144; Bir- 
mingham, 1899, No. 7. 

239. Shade and darkness — the evening of the Deluge. Can- 

vas, octagon, 30|. R.A. 1843, No. 363; N.G. No. 


240. Light and Colour. (Goethe's Theory) — the morning 

after the Deluge — Moses writing the book of Gene- 
sis. (Canvas, octagon 30^.) R.A. 1843, No. 385; N.G. 
No. 532. 


241. St. Benedetto, looking towards Fusina. (Canvas 24 x 

36.) R.A. 1843, No. 554; N.G. No. 534. 

242. OsTEND. (Canvas 34x47.) R.A. 1844, No. 11; Cornelius 

Vanderbilt, Esq. 

The picture described abo\-e was bought by Mr. Vander- 
bilt, without a pedigree, as a picture of Boulogne Har- 
bour. Mr. Thomas Moran, N.A., first suggested that it 
was most probably the picture of Ostend exhibited in 

243. Fishing bo.\ts bringing a disabled ship into Port Rys- 

D.AEL. (Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 1844, No. 21; N.G. No. 


244. Rain, Steam and Speed — the Great Western Railway. 

(Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 1844, No. 62; N.G. No. 538. 

245. Van Tromp, going about to please his masters, ships a 

sea, getting a good wetting. Vide "Lives of Dutch 
Painters." (Canvas 36x48.) R.A. 1844, No. 253; Royal 
Holloway College Gallery. 

246. Venice — Marla della S.a.lute. (Canvas 24x36.) R.A. 1844, 

No. 345; N.G. No. 539. 

247. Approach to Venice. (Canvas.) R.A. 1844, No. 356; J.M. 

1887, No. 613; Sir Charles Tennant, Bart. — [A.]. 

248. Venice quay. Ducal Palace. (Canvas 231x35^.) R.A. 

1844, No. 430; N.G. No. 540. 

249. Whalers. Vide " Beale's Voyage," p. 163. (Canvas 35 x 

47.) R.A. 1845, No. 50; N.G. No. 545. 

250. Whalers. Vide "Beale's Voyage," p. 175. (Canvas 35 x 

48.) R.A. 1845, No. 77; Metropolitan Museum, New 
York (Wolfe Gallery), 1896. 

According to Redford a smaller picture — 18 x 24 — of the 
same subject, was sold with the collection of T. Woolner, 
R.A., 1875, for ;^325 10s. 

251. Venice, evening, going to the ball.— MS. Fallacies of 

Hope. (Canvas 231 X35i.) R.A. 1845, No. 117; N.G. No. 


252. Morning, returning fro.m the ball, St. Martino. — MS. 

Fallacies of Hope. (Canvas 23^x35^-.) R.A. 1845, No. 
162 ; N.G. No. 544. 

253. Venice — noon. — yiS. Fallacies of Hope. (Canvas 23^ x 35I.) 

R.A. 1845, No. 396; N.G. No. 541. 


254. Venice — sunset, a fisher. — "MS. Fallacies of Hope. (Canvas 

23iX35i-) R-A. 1845, No. 422; N.G. No. 542. 

255. Returning from the ball (St. Martha). (Canvas 24 x 36.) 

R.A. 1846, No. 59; Guildhall, 1897, No. 67. 

256. Going to the ball (San Martino). (Canvas 25 x 37.) R.A. 

1846, No. 74; Guildhall, 1897, No. 63. 

257. "Hurrah for the whaler Erebus! Another fish!" — 

Beale's Voyage. (Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 1846, No. 237; 
N.G. No. 546. 

258. Undine giving the ring to Massaniello, fisherman of 

Naples. (Canvas 30^ square.) R.A. 1846, No. 384; N.G. 
No. 549. 
25;9. The Angel standing in the sun. — Revelations xix, v. 17, 
18. (Canvas 30^- square.) R.A. 1846, No. 411; N.G. No. 


260. Whalers (boiling blubber) entangled in flaw ice, en- 

deavouring TO extricate themselves. (Canvas 35! x 47.) 
R.A. 1846, No. 494; N.G. 547. 

261. Queen Mab's cave. (Canvas 35x47.) B.I. 1846, No. 57; 

N.G. 548. 

262. The hero of a hundred fights. An Idea suggested by 

THE German invocation upon casting the bell : in Eng- 
land CALLED Tapping the furnace. — Fallacies of Hope. 
(Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 1847, No. 180; N.G. No. 551. 

263. The WRECK buoy. (Canvas 37x48.) R.A. 1849, No. 81; 

Guildhall, 1899, No. 37. 

264. Venus and Adonis. Signed, J. M. W. Turner. (Canvas 

59x47.) R.A. 1849, No. 206; Guildhall, 1897, No. 65. 

265. Mercury sent TO admonish i^NEAS. (Canvas 35x47.) R.A. 

1850, No. 174; N.G. No. 553. 

266. i^NEAS RELATING HIS STORY TO DiDO. R.A. 1850, No. 192. 

N.G. No. 552. 

267. The VISIT TO THE TOMB. (Canvas 35^ X 47!.) R.A. 1850, No. 

373; N.G. No. 555. 

268. The DEPARTURE OF THE FLEET. (Canvas 35 X47.) R.A. 1850, 

No. 482; N.G. No. 554. 





Ilfracombe, North Devon, Storm and Shipwreck. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. i. 

Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

TiNTAGEL Abbey. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 2. 

Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

LviME Regis, Dorsetshire, a Squall. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 4. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Eruption of Vesuvius. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 8. 
Engraved for " Delineations of Pompeii." 

Hastings from the sea. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1882, No. 9. 

Engraved for " Views of Hastings and its Vicinity." 


Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 15. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

View of Cologne. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 20. Lent by T. Tomkison, 

Probably the drawing engraved by Goodall in 1824, and subse- 
quently in the Windus collection. 

Dartmouth, Devon. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 26. 

Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Bay of Naples with Vesuvius, morning. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 27. 



The Land's End, Cornwall. Approaching thunder storm. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 31. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 


Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 91. 

Engraved for " Views of Hastings and its Vicinity." 

Poole and distant view of Corfe Castle, Dorsetshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 92. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Minehead, So.mersetshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 94. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Wells Cathedral. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 95. 

Possibly the drawing, said to have been made for Mr. Munden, 
sold in 1861 for £^2 los. ; or that in the Windus collection sold 
in 1868 for ;^io5. 

Lulworth Castle, Dorsetshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 103. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Pendennis Castle, Cornwall : Scene after a wreck, 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 104. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Weymouth, Dorsetshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. iii. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Teignmouth, Devonshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 112. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Plymouth Dock from near Mount Edgecumbe. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 113. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Saint Michael's Mount, Cornwall. Sir John St. Aubvn. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 117. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 



East and West Looe, Cornwall. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 244. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Westminster Bridge from the Surrey side looking to- 
wards Westminster. An early drawing of the artist. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 271, lent by John Britton, Esq. 

Bow AND Arrow Castle, Isle of Portland. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 279. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Watchett, Somersetshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1822, No. 294. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Fetcha.m Park, Surrey. An early specimen of the artist. 
Cook's Exhibition, 1823, No. 5. Lent by Dr. Munro. 

Pevensey Castle. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 15. 

Engraved in " Views in Sussex." 

Rainbow. A vlew on the Rhine from Dunkholder Vine- 
yard, OF Ostersfey and Feltzen below Bosnart. The 
Rhine here makes one of the most considerable bends in 
its whole course, and assumes the form of a lake. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 21. Lent by James Slegg, Esq 

Dover Castle. Drawn in December, 1822. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 26. 

This work is apparently the "large drawing for exhibition" 
to which two entries in Cook's accounts refer. (Thornbury, p. 
634.) And probably the work (measuring 161^x24) engraved by 
Willmore, which was in the Dillon collection, and subsequently 
in that of Mr. J. G. Chapman. It is now in the possession of Mr. 
S. P. Avery of New York. Signed and dated, 1822. 

NiEUWEiD and Weise Thurn with Hoche's monument on the 

Rhine, looking towards Andernach. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 34. Lent by J. Slegg, Esq. 

Newark Church. An early specimen of the artist. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 44. Lent by John Landseer, Esq. 



Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 99. 
Engraved in " Views in Sussex." 

NoRBURRY Park, Surrey. An early specimen of the artist. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 102. Lent by Dr. Munro. 
This ma)' possibly be the same drawing as that, No. 42, p. 36, 
in the foregoing list, exhibited In the Academy in 1798. 

Saint Agatha's Abbey, near Richmond, Yorkshire. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1823, No. 152. 

Engraved in Whitaker's " History of Richmondshire." 

The Bridge and Castle of St. Angelo. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 20. 

Engraved in Hakewill's " Picturesque Tour of Ital)'." 

Fish Market at Hastings. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 21. 

This drawing was presented by Turner to Sir Anthony Carlisle, 
the famous physician. It measures 17^x26!, and was sold in 
1858 for^iio5J. ; it subsequently passed into the collection of 
Mr. Joseph Gillott, at the dispersion of which in 1872 it was sold 
for ^1,155 5-^- •^^ entry of payment for the frame occurs in 
Cooke's accounts. (Thornbury, p. 636.) 

The Mew Stone at the entrance of Plymouth Sound. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 32. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

The Rialto, Venice. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 40. 

Engraved in Hakewill's " Picturesque Tour of Italy." 

Twilight, Smugglers off Folkestone fishing up smuggled 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 41; Agnew's Exhibition, 1901 ; 
Edward Nettlefold, Esq.— [A.] 

This is the "large drawing" referred to in the accounts. 
(Thornbury, p. 635.) 

The Observatory in Rose-Hill Park, the seat of John 

Fuller, Esq. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 86. 
Engraved in "Views in Sussex." 


Morning — An effect of Natcre in the neighbourhood of 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. gi. 

This may perhaps be identified with the London, Autumnal 
morning, exhibited in the Academy of 180 1. No. 56, p. 41, in the 
foregoing catalogue. 


Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 93. 

Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Bridport, Dorsetshire. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 94. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

FowEY Harbour, Cornwall. 
Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 99. 
Engraved in the " Southern Coast." 

Tintern Abbey. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 105. Lent by P. F. Robinson, 

View of L.a. Riccia, Italy. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 128. 

Engraved in Hakewill's " Picturesque Tour of Italy." 

Lake of Nemi. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 153. 

Engraved in Hakewill's " Picturesque Tour of Italy." 

Brignall Church, Yorkshire. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 155. 

Engraved in Whitaker's " History of Richmondshire." 

Moss Dale Fall, Yorkshire. 

Cooke's Exhibition, 1824, No. 164. 

Engraved in Whitaker's " History of Richmondshire." 

N 2 



INIarxbourg on the Rhine. 

Northern Academy of Arts, Newcastle, 1828, No. 71. Lent by 
E. Swinburne, Esq., Senior. 

This drawing is still in the possession of the Swinburne family; 
it was lent to O.M. 1887, No. 59. 

Palace of Bubvinitch near Mayence. 

Northern Academy of Arts, Newcastle, 1828, No. 74. Lent by 
E. Swinburne, Esq., Senior. 

The drawing of Biebrich is also still in the possession of the 
Swinburne family; it was lent to O.M. 1887, No. 61. 

Entrance to Fowey Harbour. 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1829, No. 356. 

Engraved in " Picturesque Views in England and Wales." 


Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1829, No. 377. 

Engraved in " Picturesque Views in England and Wales." 


Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1829, No. 388. 

Engraved in " Picturesque Views in England and Wales." 

Lake Albano. 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1829, No. 412. 

Engraved in the " Keepsake" for 1829. 

Richmond Castle. 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1829, No. 424. 
Probably the \ iew taken from the banks of the Swale, engraved 
in " Picturesque Views in England and Wales." 

Coast Scene. 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1830, No, 136, 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1830, No. 300. 
In all probability this was the drawing engraved for the " Keep- 
sake" for 1828. 



Forum Romanum. 

Liverpool Academy, 1831, No. 222. 

Engraved in Hakewill's " Picturesque Tour of Italy." 

Roman Forum, 

Liverpool Academy, 1831, No. 231. 

Engraved in Hakewill's " Picturesque Tour of Italy." 


Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1834, No. 9. 

View of Rve. 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1834, No. 248. Lent by 
Charles Birch, Esq. 

Possibly this was the drawing engraved for the "Southern 


Royal Manchester Institution, 1834, No. 53. 


Ro3-al Birmingham Society of Artists, 1835, No. 17. Lent by 
J. Allnutt, Esq. 


Royal Manchester Institution, 1835, No. 260. 

Three Decker taking in stores. Signed and dated, 1818. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 14. 

Loss OF AN East Indiaman. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No, 15. 

Man of War off the Tagus. Signed — ^J. M. W. Turner, R.A. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 18. 

Old Farnley Hall. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No, 19, 

Loch Fine, Argyleshire, 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 21. 

The Strid, Bolton Park. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 22. 

Fall of the Reichenbach, Switzerland. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, Nos. 23 and 29. 

It is uncertain which of these two was the large drawing (No. 


76, p. 51 ante) and which the smaller, now known as the " Upper 
Falls of the Reichenbach " (O.M. 1886, No. 33J. 

Wharfedale from the Chevin Deer Park. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 26. 

Interior of St. Peter's, Rome. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 27, 

Lausanne, Lake of Geneva. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 30. 


Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 32. 

Vevay, Lake of Geneva. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 33. 

Drawings of the Swords of Cromwell, Fairfax, and Lam- 
bert, etc. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 40. 

Fall of Staubbach, Lauterbrunnen. Si^gned and dated, i8oq. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 51. 

Fountain's Abbey. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 52. 

Passage of Mont Cenis. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 56. 

Valley of Chamouni. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 57. 

Mer de Glace, Chamouni. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 60. 


Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 62. 

Mer de Glace, Chamouni. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 65. 

High Force, Tees. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 66. 

Naples and Mount Vesuvius. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 69. 

Coliseum, Rome. Signed and dated, 1820. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 70. 


Bonneville, Switzerland. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 72. 
See No. 104, p. 82 ante. 

Venice, the Rialto. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 73. 

Bolton Abbey. Signed and dated (illegibly). 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 76. 

Lancaster Sands. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 77. 

Eruption of Vesuvius. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 80. 

Venice from Fusina. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 81. 

Brientz, Moonlight. Signed — J. J\L W. Turner, R.A. 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 85. 

East Coast of England. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 86. 

Loch Tiny, Farnley Park, 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 91. 

Farnley Hall, from the junction of the Whakfe and the 

Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 92. 

The Washburne, Farnley. 
Leeds Exhibition, 1839, No. 93. 

The Rialto. 

Liverpool Academy, 1845, No. 58. 

Walton-on-Thames, Surrey. 

Royal Birmingham Society of Artists, 1847, No. 129. Lent by 
Joseph Gillott, Esq. 

Measures 36 x 48. Collection of Mr. H. W. F. Bolckow ; was 
sold in 1891 for ;6"7,4S5. 


IN 1873, twenty-two years after Turner's death, the Court of 
Chancery at last sanctioned the sale at Christie's of all the 
prints and plates which were left by the artist. Among these 
were nearly 5,000 Impressions of the various plates of the " Liber 
Studiorum." About 2,000 were in fine condition. The highest 
price Turner had asked was £2 2S. for each part, but at the 
great sale a single complete set of fourteen parts fetched j£Sf)2. 
The whole amount realized by the " Liber," under the hammer, 
was close upon ;^i8,ooo. 

F. C. Lewis, the best aquatint engraver of the day, had made 
the first plate — The Bridge and Goats — afterwards issued as No. 
43. This was the only subject engraved in this fashion, the rest 
of the plates being a combination of etching and mezzotint. The 
object was to imitate the effect of the drawings of Claud in the 
" Liber Veritatis." These had been drawn with a reed pen, and 
the shadows washed in with a brush. Turner's etchings were to 
represent the reed pen. He must have had a great many of these 
printed before the engravers put on the mezzotint, for at the sale 
there were seven hundred of them sold. 

There have been many attempts to reproduce the "Liber 
Studiorum." Messrs. Day and Son, in 1854, published fifteen 
selected plates in lithography. Lupton, who was one of the original 
engravers and a friend of Turner's, re-etched and engraved on 
steel another selection which was published by Colnaghi. Thirty- 
six plates were announced, but only fifteen appeared, and the 
project fell through in 1864. 

The Autotype Company photographed and published the whole 
series, but one can hardly expect to find the qualities of mezzo- 
tint in such a medium. The Science and Art Department of 




South Kensington wisely confined their photographs to the 
original drawings which were made for the engravers. 

The most successful of all the reproductions of the "Liber" 
are those of Mr. Frank Short. In 1885-7 ^^^ etched and engraved 
twelve of the published plates, and in 1897 sixteen more were 
published by Mr. Dunthorne. Most of the subjects had never 
been engraved before; others had been commenced by Turner 
himself in a curious mixture of aquatint over mezzotint; these 
spoiled plates had to be thrown aside. One or two had been 
begun and then left incomplete. Now the fine rich qualities of 
the medium can be seen in all its freshness and the engraver has 
quite caught the spirit of the Liber. I think the very finest of all 
is The Lost Sailor. The hopeless swimmer, battling with the huge 
rollers thundering against the cruel upright cliffs, is quite Tur- 
nerian in its grimness and horror. 

Mr, Short's plates, which bring the number of subjects up to 
one hundred, complete the "Liber Studiorum " as originally 
planned by Turner. 


Titles of Pictures are printed in italics. 

A BECKETT, G., "Almanac 
of the Month," 125. 

Abergaven)iy Bridge, Mon- 
mouthshire^ 29. 

Abingdon, 27, 48. 

Academy : training, Ruskin on, 
8-10; inefficiency of schools, 
alleged, 9, 54 ; lecture by Sir 
Joshua Reynolds, 10; Associ- 
ate, election, 29; diploma 
picture, alleged, 31; R.A., 
election as, 32 ; perspective 
lectures, 45, no, in; hang- 
ing pictures — kindness to a 
young artist, 49 ; Varnishing 
Day, 134; Council meetings, 
attendance of Turner, 141; 
bequest, Turner's will, 147- 

Academy Club, journey to 
Greenwich, 117. 

Acropolis of Athens, 72, 95. 

Adtniral Van Tromp's Barge at 
the Entrance of the Texel, 
1645, 87. 

jiEficas relating his Story to 
Dido, 138. 

" Ainsworth's Magazine," sar- 

castic remarks on Turner, 

Allen, Mr., engraver, 42. 
Allison, sketches, 72. 
"Almanac of the Month," skit 

on Turner, 125. 
Almshouse for decayed artists, 

proposal to found, 143, 148, 


Alps, the, first expedition to, 33. 

Alps, 82. 

Amalfi, 82. 

Ambleside Mill, Westmoreland, 

Ancient Italy — Ovid batiished 
from Rome, 113, 115. 

A ncie?itRome — Agrippina land- 
ing with the Ashes of Ger- 
maniciis, 119. 

Angel standing i7i the Sun, 135. 

Angerstein, J. J., collection of 
pictures, 70. 

Annual tour. See " Rivers of 

Antique, study of, 9. 

Aosta, 82. 

Apollo killing the Python, 49. 

Approach to Venice, 130, 133. 




Apuleia in search of Apuleius^ 

Archbishop's Palace, Lambeth, 

Architects' designs, touching up, 

7,9, II. 
Army of the Medes destroyed in 

the Desert, 31. 
Arrival of a Packet Boat, 74. 
Art, condition of England in 

1775, 3- 
Arundel, 72. 
Aste Hall, 68. 
" Athenaeum, The," Fighting 

Te'me'raire, 118. 
Athens, Acropolis of, 72, 95. 
Avala7iche, The, sketch for, 106. 

Bacchus and Ariadne, 121. 
Banks of the Loire, 79. 
Bath, 24. 

Bath Abbey, West Front, 24. 
Battersea sunset, sketch, 13. 
Battle of Fort Rock, 63. 
Battle of Marengo, 82. 
Battle of the Nile, 28. 
Battle of Trafalgar, 42-45. 
Battle of Trafalgar, as seen from 

the tnizzen . . ., 46. 
Bavaria, King Ludvvig of, palace, 

Bay of Baicc with Apollo and 

the Sibyl, 68-70. 
Beale, "Voyage," 134. 
Beauchamp, Lady, portrait by 

Reynolds, 10. 
Beaumont, Sir G. : and Con- 
stable's attempt at realism, 39 ; 

gift to the National Gallery, 


Beckford, building Fonthill 
Abbey, etc., 29, 30. 

Bedford, Duke of, sketches for, 
by T. Girtin, 32. 

Bell, Mr., introduction to Tur- 
ner, 13. 

Ben Arthur, 65. 

Ben Lomond Mountains, 33. 

Bird, Artist, hanging of picture, 

Birmingham, 23. 
" Blackbirdy," nickname, 57. 
*' Blackwood," defence of Turner 

by Ruskin, loi. 
Blake, pupil of Turner, 23. 
Bligh Sand, 61, 104. 
Boats carrying out Anchors and 

Cables to Dutch Men-of- War, 

Boccaccio relating the Tale of 

the Bird-cage, 77. 
Bohn, Mr., intending purchaser 

of " England and Wales," in. 
Bonnville, Savoy, 36, 55. 
"Booth, Mr.," incognito, 140. 
Booth, Mrs. C, 140, 143, 149. 
Boscastle, 72. 
Boulogne, visit to, 34. 
Brasenose College, Lnterior, 37. 
Brentford Butts, schooldays 

at, 4. 
Brewster, science of light, 134. 
Bridge of Sighs, Ducal Palace, 

arid Custom House, Venice^ 

Bridgnorth, 23. 
Brighton, 72. 
Brignols Church, 68. 
Bristol, 6, 18. 
British Museum : Pennant's 



" London,'' illustrated copy, 
7 ; collection of Girtin's and 
Turner's sketches, 32. 

Britton's "Architectural An- 
tiquities," engravings for, 27. 

Broad Stone of Honour, Ehreii- 
breitstein, and Tomb of Mar- 
ceaii, c)C). 

Broiigham Castle, 72. 

Brunei, Shakespeare Cliff Tun- 
nel, 133. 

Bur Island, expedition, 52. 

Burial in St. Paul's, 24, 146. 

Burnet quoted, 36. 

Burning of the House of Lords 
and Commons, October i6th, 
1834, 100. 

Buttermere Lake, with a part of 
Cromack Water, Cumberland 
— A Shower, 29. 

Buxton, work in Rome, 78. 

Byron, Lord : " Life and Works 
of Lord Byron," sketches, 72, 
95; quotations from, 91, 99, 
120, 121, 133. 

Cadell, bookseller, friendship 

with, 27, 
Caernarvon Castle, 29. 
Calais Harbour — Now for the 

Painter . . .,75. 
Calais Pier, 34, 35 ; engraving, 

Calais Sands, low water, 81. 
Calcott, his Missing the Painter, 

75 ; death of, 132. 
Caldwell, Mr., praise of Turner's 

pictures, 31. 
Caligula's Palace and Bridge, 


Cambridge — Choir in King's 

College Chapel, 23. 
" Camera obscura," use of, 65. 
Campagna, The, 82. 
Campo Santo, Venice, 126. 
Canaletti, copies of engravings 

by, 14. 
Canterbury, sketches, 13, 18. 
Cape ColotDia, 72. 
Capri — Sketches, 67. 
Carew, sculptor, fishing expedi- 
tion, 60. 
Caricature by Mr. Fawkes, 74. 
Carlisle, expedition to, 66. 
Carnarvon Castle, 30. 
Castle of St. Angela, 82. 
Centaurs in Conflict with the 

Lapithae, 145. 
Cephalonia, 95. 

Chale Farm, Isle of Wight, 24. 
Chamouni, expedition to, 105. 
Chantrey, Sir F. : fishing expe- 
ditions, 57 ; letter to, 77 ; pur- 
chase of picture of Venice, 
123; death, 124. 
Chelsea home, 139, 143. 
Chepstow, 23. 
Chester, 24. 
Chicken, 49. 

Christie's sales, buying back pic- 
tures, 68. 
Chryses, 49. 
Churchyard, 66. 
Classical influence, study of the 

antique, 9. 
Claude : drawings, 14; compari- 
son with Turner, 36, 40 ; etch- 
ings of pictures, " Liber Veri- 
tatis," 40 ; Queeti of Sheba and 
The Marriage of Isaac and 



Claude — continned. 

Rebecca^ 62 ; National Gallery 
pictures, 148. 

Clifton, sketches, 6. 

Clovelly, 72. 

Clyde, Fall of, Lanarkshire, 33. 

Coleman, Mr., school at Mar- 
gate, 5. 

Collins, Wilkie, reminiscences 
of Turner, 134. 

Cologne, 74. 

Colour. See Painting. 

Combe Martin, 72. 

Combe, W., letterpress of 
Cooke's "Southern Coast,'' 


Como, 82. 

Coniston Fells, Morning among, 

Conscientiousness, 75. 

Constable: realistic colour, 39; 
praise of pictures, by Arch- 
deacon Fisher, 56 ; Openifigof 
Waterloo Bridge, 90. 

Cooke, artist, sketching tour, 1 1. 

Cooke's " Southern Coast," 59, 
65, 68, 72. 

Corfe Castle, 59. 

Corso, visit to, J7. 

Cousins, engraver, 42. 

Cowes — East Cowes Castle, yj. 

Cozens, 14, 16. 

Craig?nillar, 89. 

Crook of Lune, 68. 

Crossing the Brook, 61, 68. 

Crowle, Mr., illustrations for 
Pennant's " London," 7. 

Danby, Hannah, 142, 145, 147- 

Dartmouth, 72. 

Dart7nouth Castle, 72. 

Davies, Scarlett, Turner's paint- 
ings, 100. 

Dawn of Christianity, 123. 

Dayes on Turner's industry, 
quoted, 17. 

Decline of the Carthaginian Em- 
pire, 64, 71, 72. 

De Loutherbourg, influence of, 
13, 14, 15, 45; Lord Howe's 
Victory, 15,42, 44. 

Deluge, The, 56. 

Departure of the Fleet, 1 38. 

Depositifig offohn Bellini? s three 
Pictures . , ., 123. 

DeviVs Bridge, View near, 23. 

Devonshire, sketching expedi- 
tions, 52-55, 61. 

Dido and /Eneas, 60. 

Dido building Carthage, 62, 71, 
72, 148. 

Dido directittg the Equiptnent of 
the Fleet, 76. 

Dieppe, Harbour of, 72. 

Dinner, invitation to — Anecdote, 

Dogana and Madonna delta 
Saltite, Venice, 129. 

Dogafia, San Giorgio, Citella, 
from the steps of Etcropa, 126. 

Dolbadern Castle, 31. 

Donnington Castle — engraving, 

Dort or Dordrecht, 64. 
Drachenfels, 72. 
Drawings. See Sketches and 

Ducal Palace, Dogano, with part 

of San Giorgio, Venice, 123. 



Ducal Palace, Venice, 94. 
"Duke of Wellington and the 

Shrimp." — "Punch/' 125. 
Dunfermline, 88. 
Dunstanborough Castle, 27. 
Duroveray, Mr., 2, 7. 
Dutch Boats in a Gale . . ., 3^- 
Dutch Masters, imitation of, 40. 
Dyjtevor Castle, 24. 

Eastlake, Sir C, on Turner's 
AI Oder ft Rome, 106. 

Eccentricity, 23. 

Eddystone Lighthouse, 72. 

Edinburgh, pictures of, 33, yi, 
89; visit to, 66. 

Eggleston Abbey, 68. 

Egremont, Lord, friendship with, 
47 ; pictures painted for, 48, 

Ehrenbreitstein, 72. 

Ely Cathedral — pictures, 24, 26. 

Ely, Cottage at, 24. 

Engagement, 12. 

" England and Wales," discon- 
tinuance, III. 

Engravings, colouring, 6; Tur- 
ner's chief source of income, 
37, 42, 92. 

Entrance of the Metise — Orange 
Merchatitman on the Bar, 65. 

Eruption of the Souffrur Aloun- 
tain, 64. 

Ewenny Priory, Transept of, 

Ewing, vi'ork in Rome, 78. 

Exeter College — engraving, 39. 

" Fallacies of Hope, The," quo- 
tations from, 50, 63, 65, 70, 81, 

85, 86, 95, 120, 122, 124, 127, 
128, 129, 134, 138; composi- 
tion of, 51; "Thunderous 
Grandeur," 102; imitations of, 
Fall of the Clyde, Lanarkshire, 


Fall of the Rhine at Shauffhau- 
sen, 39. 

Fall on the River Monach, Car- 
digan, 18. 

Farewell, 82. 

Farnley Hall, pictures at, 49, 
'J2); visit to, 58; goose pies, 
gift from, 73, 140. 

Favvkes, Mr., friendship with, 
48 ; " Overturner," nickname 
of Turner, 49 ; collection of 
water-colour drawings, 49 ; 
death of, 72 ; purchase of Rhine 
sketches, T}) 5 caricature of 
Turner by, 74 ; Simplon Pass 
Expedition, 74; letter to, 140; 
see also Farnley Hall. 

Felucca, The, 82. 

Festival upon the Opening of 
the Vintage of Maqon, 36. 

Field of Waterloo, 64. 

Fiery Furnace, 89. 

Fiery Furnace, by Jones, 89. 

Fifth {Seventh) Plague of Egypt, 

Fightijig Temeraire, 11 7- 119. 
FingaPs Cave, Staffa, 90. 
Fish Market on the Sands . . ., 81. 
Fisher, Archdeacon, praise of 

Frosty Morning, 56. 
Fishertnen at Sea, 24. 
Fishermen becabned, previous to 

a Storm — Twilight, 28. 



Fishermen coining Ashore at 
Sunset previous to a Gale, 26. 

Fisher inen of Naples, 135. 

Fishermen upon a Lee-Shore in 
Squally Weather, 33. 

Fishing Boats bringi?ig a Dis- 
abled Ship i)ito Port Rysdael, 

Flight into Egypt, 123. 

Florence, 82. 

Flou7ider Fishing, 49. 

Fonthill Abbey, Wiltshire — 
sketches, 29, 30. 

Fort Augustus, 89. 

Forinn Roinanu?n, ji\. 

Foundling Hospital : Turner's 
will, 149. 

Foictitain of Fallacy, 120. 

Fountain of Indole?tce, 95. 

Fountaifis Abbey, Dormitory aiid 
Transepts of, 28. 

Fountains Abbey : engravings, 

France, first journey through, 

Frosty Morning, 56, 57. 
Fimeral of Sir Thomas Law- 

Gainsborough, Turner's admira- 
tion for, 58. 

Galileo, Villa ofZz. 

Garden of the Hesperides, 35, 

Garre tier's Petition, 47. 

Gate of St. A j{gus title's Mona- 
stery, Canterbury, 18. 

Geddes, Mr. : Academy picture, 
incident, 119. 

Geneva, Lake of,Z2. 

Genoa, visit to, 77. 

Gibraltar, 95. 

Gibson : sculpture, 78. 

Gillott, Mr., visit to Queen Anne 
Street, 97. 

Gilpin, S., painting cattle in A 
Statny Morning, 29. 

Girtin, T. : friendship with Tur- 
ner, 5, 26; portrait of, 7; 
drawings for Dr. Munro, 14; 
water-colours, 16,26,31; visit 
to Paris, 32 ; illness and death 
of, 32. 

Giudecca la Donna delta Salute 
and San Giorgio, 123. 

Glacier and Source of the Ar- 
veron, 36. 

Glaucus and Scylla, 1 23. 

Goddess of Discord in the Gar- 
den of Hesperides, 38. 

Going to the Ball, 1 34. 

Golden Bough, 95. 

Goodall, Mr., on Turner's pic- 
tures, 103. 

Goodall, Mr. (Senior), engraver, 

Gott's Studio, 78. 

Gratid Canal, Venice, 96. 

Great Fall of the Riechenbach, 

Great St. Bernard, 82. 

Green, Mr. : sale of Venus and 
Adonis, 138. 

Greta and Tees, function of the, 

Griffiths : Memorial re National 
Gallery pictures, 71. 

Hadley Church — drawing, 14. 
Hadley, lessons given at, 23. 



Hakewell's, "Picturesque Italy," 

sketches, 65. 
Hamburg, Schwabe collection, 

Hamerton, G., quoted, 23^ 102, 

Hammersley, Mr., visits to Queen 

Anne Street, 130-132. 
Hammersmith, home at, 45. 
Hand Court, London, home in, 

Hannibal crossing the Alps, 50, 


Harbour of Dieppe, 72. 

Harding, Lord: National Gal- 
lery pictures, 71. 

Hardwick, Mr., office work for, 

Hardy, Capt. : " Victory" at Ti-a- 
falgar, 43. 

Harlech Castle, fro7n Twgwyn 
Ferry — Sutmnef^s Eve fling, 
twilight, 28. 

Harley Street, home in, 32, 

Harraway, Mr., visits to, 6, 18; 

portrait of his children, 7. 
Hastings, Line FisJiing off, 99. 
Heath, engraver, 42. 
Helvoetsluys — the " City of 

Utrecht, 64," going to Sea, 

Henderson, Mr., commissions to 

Turner, 11, 14; collection of 

Turner's and Girtin's early 

sketches, 32. 
Hero of a Hiuidred Fights, 137. 
Heyshani and Camberland 

Mouftts, 68. 
High Force, 65. 

High Tore, 68. 

" History of Richmondshire," 

sketches and engravings for, 

29, 65, 68. 
Holland, visit to, 65. 
Holy Fa?nily, The, 36. 
Holy Island Cathedral, 28. 
Honneur au Roi de Bavilre, L\ 

Hornby Castle, 68. 
Hospitality, 57. 
Huggins, Battle of Trafalgar^ 

Htitnber, Month of, 72. 
Hurrah for the Whaler Erebus! 

■ . •, 134. 
Hythe, 72. 

Imitators, inferiority of, 154. 

higleborotigh, views, 65, 68. 

Insanity, plea of contestors of 
Will, 150. 

Interior of a church, 65. 

Interior of Ely Minster, 24. 

I sis, 65. 

Isleworth — drawings, 8. 

" Italy," Rogers's, 82, 151 ; quo- 
tations from, 133, 135. 

Italy, visit to, 65, 77 ; pictures 
and sketches, 66, 78, 113; 
non-appreciation of Turner in, 
79 ; see also Venice, 

James's "Naval History," 43, 

fason, 33, 34, 46, 49. 
Jedburgh, views by Girtin, 265 

expedition to, 66. 
fessica, 81. 
Johnson, Dr., Rogers and, 83. 



Jones, G., Bay of Baiae, 70; 
letter to, 77; Fiery Furnace, 
89; death of Chantrey, 124; 
Wilkie's picture of funeral at 
sea, 124 ; last visit of Turner 
to, 142. 

Juliet and her Nurse , 104. 

Kauffman, Angelica, pictures, 

Keelmen heaving in coals by 

Night, 99. 
Kilgerraii Castle on the Twyvey, 

. . ., 29. 
Kindheartedness, 49, 74, 109. 
KingJoh7i's Palace, Eltham, 18. 
Kirkby Lonsdale, 65. 
Kirkby Lonsdale Churchyard, 68. 
Kirks tall Abbey, pictures, 27, 

Kirkstall Loch, 72. 
Kitchurn Castle, with Cruchan 

Ben Mountains . . ., 33. 
Knight, H. Gully, sketch of the 

Temple of Jupiter Panhel- 

lenius, 64. 

Lake of Lucerne, from the Land- 
ing-place of Fluelen, 64. 

Lake of Geneva, 82. 

Lambeth, drawings, 8. 

Landilo Bridge, 24. 

Landscape: compositiofi of Ti- 
voli, 65. 

Landscape, conventional and in- 
ventive treatment, 33, 70; 
realistic treatment, 34. 

Land's End, engraving, 59. 

Landseer, painting dogs in Great 
St. Bernard, 82. 

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, portraits 
at the Academy, hanging next 
to Turner, 74 ; Funeral of ,ti>\c- 
ture, 82. 

Leicester, Sir J. F., 47. 

Leith, 24. 

Lenox, Mr., purchase of Staffa, 
FingaVs Cave, 90. 

Lewis, C. G., etching for " Liber 
Studiorum," 41. 

" Liber Studiorum," 27, 28, 41, 
46, 47, 55, 65. 

" Liber Veritatis," etchings of 
Claude's pictures, 40. 

Lifeboat and Manby Apparatus 
going off to a stranded vessel, 

Light and Colour, The Morn- 
ing after the Deluge, Moses 
writing the Book of Genesis, 

Light, interest in science of, 134. 

Light Towers of the Heve, 93. 

Lincoln Cathedral, St. Hugh's 
Porch, 23. 

Line Fishing off Hastings, 99. 

Linlithgow Palace, 79. 

Linnel, portrait of Turner, 109. 

Llandaff Cathedral, 24. 

Loch Katrine, visit to, 88. 

Loch Lomomi, engraving, 37. 

Loire, Batiks of, 79. 

London, appearance in Turner's 
boyhood, 6; views of, 14, 23, 
31, 47 ; Turner's homes, see 
Chelsea, Hammersmith, Hand 
Court, Harley Street, Maiden 
Lane, and Queen Anne Street. 

London, Autumnal Morning, 



London from Greenwich, 47. 
London from Temple Gardens, 

drawing, 14. 
London Orphan Fund : Turner's 

Will, 149. 
Lonsdale, Earl of, 47. 
Lord HoTve's Victory, by De 

Loutherbourg, 15. 
Loretto Necklace, 79. 
Lost Sailor, engraving, 41. 
Lowther Castle, views, 47, 48. 
Lucerne, Lake of, from the Land- 
ing-place of Fluelen, 64. 
Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, and 

Dorothy Percy's Visit to their 

Father . . ., 87. 
Lulworth Castle, 68, 
Lulzuorth Cove, 59. 
Lupton, engraving of Calais 

Pier, 47. 

Maiden Lane, home in, i, 2 ; 

leaving, 26. 
Mabnesbury Abbey (interior), 1 8. 
Malta, 72, 95. 
Malton, T., Turner's master, 7, 


Malvern Abbey, porch of, 18. 

Man leading Horses, A, 14. 

Manufacturers as patrons, 98. 

Marford Mill, Wrexham, 23. 

Margate, 72. 

Margate, school-days at, 5, 6, 
12; sketching expeditions to, 
13, 127. 

Marrick Abbey, 68. 

Martigny, 82. 

" Master in Chancery," incog- 
nito, 135. 

Matlock, 23. 

May, 49. 

Mayall, Mr., photography. Tur- 
ner at his studio, 135, 136. 

Mer de Glace, 36. 

" Merchant of Venice," quota- 
tion, 81. 

Mercury aiui Argus, 104. 

Mercujy and Herse, 49. 

Mercury sent to admonish Aen- 
eas, 138. 

Messieurs les Voyageurs on the 
Return from Italy . . ., 79. 

Mickleham, Stzidy of the Farm 
House, Mr. Locl^s Park, 28. 

Millais, Fringe of the Moor, 35. 

Miller, engraver, letter from 
Turner to, 113-115. 

Milton, quotations from, 26, 29. 

Minehead, 68. 

Modern Italy, 113. 

" Modern Painters," publication 
of, loi, 103, 127. 

Moderfi Rome, 106. 

Modern Rome — Campo Vaccina, 

Moonlight, lb. 

Moore, H., Neivhaven Packet, 

Moore Park, 72. 

Mornitig among the Coniston 

Fells, 27. 
Mortlake, seat of William Mof- 

fatt, Esq., 74, 76. 
Mount Edgcumbe, e.\pedition, 


Mountain scenery. Turners ren- 
dering of, 25. 

Mouth of the Humber, 72. 

Mouth of the Seine, Quelle boetef, 



Munro, Dr., an early friend of 

Turner, 8, 14, 15. 
Munro (of Novar), collection of, 

90, 91, 104, 106, 108, 113, 137, 

138; trip to Chamouni with 

Turner, 105. 
Murray, David, All adown a 

Devon Valley^ 61. 

Naples^ views, 67, 82. 

Narcissus, 36. 

National Gallery : Turner's pic- 
tures, 11,27,29, 33, 39,46,56, 
62, 65, 81, 82, 90, 94, 107, 108, 
122, 128, 129, 148, 151; draw- 
ings and sketches, 28, 66, 135 ; 
arrangement of, by Ruskin, 
28,151-153; foundation of the 
Gallery, 70 ; gift and purchase 
of pictures, 70,71 ; Turner's be- 
quests, will, 147-15 1 ; Claude's 
pictures, 148. 

Neapolitan Fisher - skirls sur- 
prised by Moonlight, 123. 

Needles, Fishing-boats off, 13. 

Negroponte, 72. 

Nesbit, Mr., " Insanity of Ge- 
nius," 46. 

New Moon, The, . . ., 122. 

New York — Pictures, 95, 99, 104. 

Newark, expedition to, 66. 

Newbury, engraving, 37. 

Newcastle, 72. 

Nice, visit to, 'j'j. 

Nicknames, 49, 57. 

Norham, town and castle, views, 
27, 72, 89. 

Normandy, sketches of, 93. 

Northcote, Academy picture, 

Nottingham, 23. 
November, 49. 

Now for the Painter — passen- 
gers going on board, 75. 
Nuneham Courtenay, 17. 

Oaka7npto7i, 72. 

Obituary, 147. 

Offer of marriage, letter, 58. 

Openitigof Waterloo Bridge, by 
Constable, 90. 

Orvieto, View of, 78. 

Ostejid, 132. 

" Overturner," nickname, anec- 
dote, 49. 

Ovid, quotations from, 49, 107, 
120, 123. 

" Oxford Almanac," drawings 
for, 28, 39, 46. 

Oxford, views of, 6, 55 ; sketch- 
ing expedition, 11. 

Packet Boat from Rotterdam 

becalmed, 64. 
Paestu?n, 82. 

Paintings, Turner's : Tinted 

manner, monochrome, 15, 

16; colour in studies, 24; 

mountain scenery, 25 ; defin- 

iteness and simplicity of aim, 

26; realistic treatment, 34; 

livelihood, sale of engravings, 

37 ; perfection, aim towards, 

exactitude, 47; studies, 51, 

52; rendering of trees, 52, 80, 

85, 105 ; use of colour, 62 ; 

j inventive style, 70 ; apprecia- 

I tion of, by the public, 79, 102 ; 

'' detail and finish, 88 ; blending 

' of effects, 89 ; points of view, 



89; brilliancy of colour, 91 ; ex- 
aggerations, 92 ; experiments 
in colour, 93; Ruskin's defence 
of, 101-103, 127; daring and 
originality, 102 ; typical pic- 
tures, 105 ; expression of 
knowledge in words, 109-111 ; 
impressionistic style, 1 1 3, 1 1 5 ; 
anachronisms, 116; analysis 
of paintings as a whole, 116; 
anatomy, 116; proportion,! 16; 
cause of admiration for, 117; 
place of, among artists, 117 ; 
criticisms, 125 ; time's ravages 
on pictures, 129 ; finishing on 
varnishing day, 134; experi- 
ment and combination, 135; 
versatility, 135; setting pa- 
lette,i45; genius,i46; methods 
of work, 1 54. 

Palace of Queen Joanna near 
St. Elmo, 67. 

Palestrina — composition, 8 1 . 

Palice, Mr., drawing master, 5. 

Pantheon, the morning after the 
fire, The, 18. 

Parting of Hero and Leander, 

Passage of Mou7it St. Gothard, 

Patter dale, 37. 

Peace — Burial at Sea, 1 24. 

Peel, Sir R., National Gallery 
pictures, 71. 

Pembroke Castle, 31, 39. 

Pennant's " London,'' illustrated 
copy, 7. 

Personal appearance, 5, 11, 48, 
56, 109, 131, 134; caricature, 

Perspective, lectures on, log- 
in; lessons received, 7; pro- 
fessor at the Academy, 45. 

Peterborough, 24. 

Peterbo7-ough Cathedral, West 
Entrance, 23. 

Petworth, visit to, 47. 

Photography, interest in, 135. 

Phryne going to the Public Bath 
as Venus, 112. 

Pifferari, The, 113. 

Pilate washing his Hands., 

Pittsburg: Wreckers— Coast of 
I\' orthumberland, 96. 

Pluto carrying off Proserpine., 

Plymouth, hospitality of, 53. 

"Pocket Magazine": sketch of 
the Tower of LondoJi, 23. 

Poole — engraving, 59. 

Porden, work for, 7. 

Portraits: Girtin, T., 7; Harra- 
way children, 7 ; copy of por- 
trait by Reynolds, 10. 

Portraits, personal : fifteen years 
of age, 7; seventeen years of 
age, 10; Linnel's portrait, 

Portraiture: condition of, in 
1775) 2, 3; method of, 34. 

Port Ruysdael, 76. 

Poussin's fo7iah Cast on Shore, 

Prince of Orange, Williatn HI, 
embarked from Holland . . ., 

Prints, colouring, 7. 

"Punch": parody of Turner, 



Queen Anne Street, home, 55, 

57, 97, 103, 130-132, 142, 145- 
" Queen Charlotte " engaging 
the " Montagne," 42, 44. 

R.A., election as, 32. 

Raby Castle^ 64. 

Rain^ Stea7n, and speed . . ., 133. 

Ramsgate, 72. 

Reculver — sketch, 137. 

Redding, C. : sketching expedi- 
tions, 52-55, 61. 

Reeve, Lovell: youth of Turner, 

Refectory of Kirks tall Abbey, 
Yorkshire, 27. 

Regatta — Beating to Windward, 


Regatta — Startifig for the New 
Moorings, jj. 

Reguhis, 106. 

Rembrandt: The Condemnation 
of Haman, 14. 

Rembrandfs Daughter, 76. 

Rennie: work in Rome, 78. 

Returning from the Ball, 134. 

Revelations, xix, 17, 18: quota- 
tion, 135. 

Reynolds, Sir J.: copy of por- 
trait by, 10; death of, 10 ; lec- 
ture at the Academy, 10. 

Rhine, Fall of, at Shanffhausen, 


Rhine, the, sketches from, 'j'},, 

Rhodes, 72, 95. 

Richmond, 48. 

Richmond Hill on Prince Re- 
gent? s Birthday, 65. 

Riechenbach, Great Fall of, 64. 

Rippingille, Mr.: Rome's appre- 
ciation of Turner, 79. 

Rising Squall, The, 18. 

Ritchie, Leitch: letterpress for 
" Rivers of France," 92. 

"Rivers of England," 72, 151. 

" Rivers of France," 92, 95, 147, 

Roberts, D., friendship with, 

Rochester, 23, 72. 

Rochester, N^orman Keep, 13. 

Rockets and Blue Lights . . ., 

Rogers, S., friendship with, 82; 
admiration for Dr. Johnson, 
83 ; treasures owned by, 83 ; 
see also " Italy." 

Rome, pictures and sketches of, 
65, 67, 82, 104, 119, 120; visit 
to, "Ji; appreciation in, 79. 

Roseneu . . ., 123. 

Rotterdam Ferry Boat, 95. 

Rouen Cathedral, 93. 

Royal Academy. See Academy. 

Ruskin, John : portrait of Tur- 
ner belonging to, 7 ; defence 
of Turner in " Blackwood," 
loi ; " Modern Painters," loi- 
103, 127; relations with Tur- 
ner, 127; Swiss trip, 140; ar- 
rangement of the National 
Gallery drawings, 1 51-153. 

Ruskin, John, quoted, on Acad- 
emy training, 9; on Turner's 
painting, 23, 24, 25, 26; on 
Calais Pier, 34; on The God- 
dess of Discord in the Garden 
of the Hesperides, 38; on The 
Fighting Temeraire, 118: on 



The Su7i of Venice, 129; on 
St. Benedetto, 130; on Tur- 
ner's character, 144. 

St. Agatha's Abbey, 68. 

■5"/. Anselm's Chapel, Canter- 
bury, 18. 

St. Benedetto looking toivards 
Fusina, 130. 

St. Donafs Castle, South Wales, 


St. Erasmus in Westminster 

Abbey, 24. 
St. Hughes denoiiticin^ Ven- 
geance . . ., 36. 
St. Martha — Returning froyn 

the Ball, 134. 
St. Maues, 72. 
St. Maurice, 82. 
St. Michael's Mount, 59, 96. 
Salisbury Town and Cathedral^ 

views, 24, 26, 29, 31. 
Saltash, 39. 
Saltram, visit to, 54. 
Salvator Rosa: imitation of, 33, 

34; Wild Landscape, A, i\. 
San Martino — Going to the 

Ball, 134. 
Sandby, P., Turner's master, 3, 

4, 7, 16. 
Scarborough Toiun and Castle, 

Sce?ie — A Street in Venice, 108. 
Scene in Derbyshire, 76. 
Scene with Banditti, 82. 
Scotland: sketching expeditions, 

33, 88. 
Scott, Sir Walter: illustrations 

to " Tales of a Grandfather," 

27 ; expeditions with Turner, 

66; drawings for his Poems, 
88; quotation from, 90. 
Seine, Mouth of the. Quelle bcejif 


Shade and Darkness — the Even- 
ing of the Deluge, 129. 

Shand, Dr., 2. 

Sheepshank, J.: collection, 121. 

Shields, 72. 

Ships bearing up for Anchorage, 

Shipwreck, The, 35, n, 47. 
Shrewsbury, The Welsh Bridge, 


Simmer Lake, 68. 

Simplon Pass, expedition, 74. 

Sketches and drawings : early 
attempts, 4, 5 ; method of 
drawing in water-colour, 15, 
16; sale of, anecdote, 31; 
National Gallery Collection, 
51, 151-153; use of "Camera 
Obscura," 65 ; method, 106. 

Skye, visit to Corriskin, 88. 

Slavers throwing overboard the 
Dead and Dying, 122. 

Smallholm Craigs, expedition 
to, 66. 

Smith, John, water-colour paint- 
ings, 16. 

Snowstorin — Avalanche and In- 
undation . . ., 108. 

Snowstorm — Steamboat off a 
Harbour's Mouth . . ., 125, 

Soame's Museum, picture for, 

Sonier Hill, 49. 
South Kensington Museum, 84, 

96, 121. 



"Southern Coast," 59, 65, 68, 


Spezzia, visit to, 77. 

Spithead — Boafs Crew recovei'- 
ing an A?icJior, 35, 47. 

Staffa, FingaPs Cave, go. 

Stanfield : Throwing the Painter, 
75; suggestion for The Fight- 
ing Temeraire, 117. 

Stangate Creek, 72. 

Stirling, 88. 

Story of Apollo and Daphne, 

Stothard: early recollections of 
Turner, 4; admiration for, Tj; 
Great St. Bernard — figures, 
82; rivalling by Turner, 86. 

Stubb : Phaeton and the Horses 
of the Sun, 54. 

Study in Septejnber of the Farm- 
house, Mr. Lock's Park, Mic- 
kleham, Surrey, 28. 

Sun of Venice going to Sea, 

Sun rising through Vapour — 
Fishermen cleaning and sell- 
ing Fish, 40, 148. 

Sunny Morning, 29. 

Sweakley, near Uxbridge, 18. 

Switzerland, expedition to, 134. 

Tabley, Cheshire, two pictures, 


Tamar, the: sketching expedi- 
tion, 54, 55. 

TelVs Chapel, 82. 

Tetnple of fupiter Panhellenitcs, 

Temple of Minerva, 72, 95. 

Teniers, comparison with, 40. 
Tenth Plague of Egypt, 33. 
Thackeray: "Ainsworth's Ma- 
gazine," 125. 
Thames, the, sketches of, 5, 6, 


Thomson, James, quotations 
from, 27, 28. 

Thomson, Mr., of Duddingston, 
visit to, 66. 

Thornbury's " Life of Turner," 
quoted, 6, 7, 11, 23, 24,45,47, 
64, 70, 71, 90, 96, 97, 103, 118, 
130-132, 137, 144, 147. 

Thrift, 14. 

"Times": obituary, 147. 

Tzntern Abbey, 18, 23. 

Titian's Bacchus afid Ariadne, 


Tivoli, Composition of: Land- 
scape, 65. 

Tivoli Ruins, 82. 

Tivoli, sketches, 67, 113. 
[ Tojnb of Cecilia Metella, 72. 

Torbay from Brixham, 68. 

Totnes, 72. 

Tower of London, 23. 

Townley, Mr.: Richmondshire 
sketches, 29. 

Traveller, The, 2,2)- 

Trees: conventional rendering, 
52, 80, 85, 105. 

Trimmer, Mr.: lessons with, 56; 
letter to, 58; appearance of 
Turner, 109; visit to Queen 
Anne Street, 145 ; reminis- 
cences of Turner, 146. 

Trossachs, visit to, 88. 

Tunbridge, 24. 

Turin, expedition to, 106. 



Turner, C, mezzotints by, 41, 

"Turner's Gallery": Will, 148, 

Turner, Mary, mother of the 

painter, i; insanity of, 31. 
Turner, William, father of the 

painter, i, 32, 83, 84, 146, 
Twickenham, home at, 56. 
Twilight on the Lorelei^ 7^. 
Two-deckers taking in Stores, 


Ulysses deriding Polyphemus, 

80, 81. 
Undine giving the Ring to Mas- 

satiiello, 135. 
Unpaid Bill, 46. 

Val d^Aosta, 151. 

Val d'Aosta: sketching expedi- 
tion, 105. 

Van Goyen lookitig out for a 
Subject, 95. 

Va}i Tromp going about to please 
his Master, 133. 

Van Tromp returning after the 
Battle of the Dogger Bank, 


Vati Tramp's Shallop at the 
Entrance of the Scheldt, 90. 

Vanderveld: admiration for, 4, 
58; imitation of, 34; compari- 
son with, 37, 40, 91. 

Venice: pictures, 82, 94, 96, 99, 
104, 106, 108, 121, 123, 126, 
129, 133, 134; visit to, 106. 

Venus a?id Adonis, 138. 

Vernon Collection, 94. 

" Victory" at Trafalgar, 42-45, 

Villa Madonna, 82. 

Villa of Galileo, 82. 

Vimieux Fort, sketches of, 87. 

Vision of Medea, 86. 

Visit to the Totnb, 138. 

Walker's " Copperplate Maga- 
zine," sketches for, 23. 

Wallis, engraver, 42. 

Waltham Abbey, 24. 

Wanstead Church — sketch, 8. 

War — The Exile and the Rock- 
Limpet, 124. 

Warkivorth, 72. 

Warkivorth Castle, Northnn- 
berland, 29. 

Water-colour drawing, 15, 16. 

Waterloo, Field of, 64. 

Wattcau painting a Study by 
Fresnoy's rtiles, 87. 

Weathercote Cave, 68. 

Wells, Miss : start of " Liber 
Studiorum," 40. 

Weymouth, 59. 

Whalers, 134. 

Whalers {boiling blubber) eti- 
tangledinfiowice, 135. 

Whalley Bridge a?id Abbey, 


What you li/ill, 68. 

Wheeler, Mrs.: bequest in Tur- 
ner's will, 149. 

Whitakefs " History of Rich- 
mondshire," 29, 65, 68. 

Wilkie, Sir D., comparison with, 
40; comment on Lawrence's 
funeral, 82; Burial of Wilkie, 

Will, Turner's, 147-150. 

Willesden, 14. 



Wilson, neglect of, by public, 
3 ; Richmondshire sketches, 
29; Turner's admiration for, 

Winchelsea, East Gaie, 65. 

Windsor Park, 49. 

Wznesdale, Yorkshire, 27. 

Wolverhampton, 24. 

Woman 0/ Samaria, 65. 

Wreck Buoy, 137. 

Wreck of the '■'^ Minotaur" on 
the Haak Sands, 48. 

Wreckers — Coast of Northum- 
berland, 96. 

Wyatt: work in Rome, 78. 

Wycli-ff, 66. 

Yarborough, Lord, pictures 

painted for, 36, 48. 
Yorkshire, visit to, 25. 


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